Something's Gotta Give (You and Tequila Make Me Crazy)
by The Creative Muse
Summary: The team is in trouble and Eliot, on the verge of a breakdown, is the only one who can save them. But can he pull it off after running into an equally crazy ex-girlfriend and while dodging old foes? Alternate timeline. Eliot/OC. Story 1 in the Different Kind of Knight Series.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

"Eliot. Eliot!" Nate's voice broke through the hitter's thoughts.

Eliot dropped the guy he'd been beating up and stood back, swaying on his feet. He looked around him. The bodies of several men lay scattered in pools of their own blood. He blinked and took a few steps backward, looking down at his hands, stained red.

"Eliot." Sophie spoke softly to him, touching his arm gently.

He jerked away from her, as if burned. "Don't touch me." He gritted through clenched teeth.

"Eliot, you've gone too far this time." Nate stood in front of him. "You need to take a break."

"I'm fine." He growled. But he knew Nate was right. This was the third job this month where he'd been out of control – more out of control than normal. He looked down at the man at his feet, the face was unrecognizable, beaten to a pulp. He hoped deep down that he hadn't actually killed any of them, but he wouldn't have been surprised if he had.

"I, um," he looked up at Nate, a huge wave of guilt — and maybe even fear — washing over him. "I'll be outside."

Sophie looked disapprovingly at Eliot's back as he walked away. She turned to Nate. "He needs help. I don't know what we can do.

"Force him to have time off?" Nate shook his head at his own question and offered her his arm as they followed Eliot out.

Eliot stepped outside and took a deep breath of the fresh night air, closing his eyes for a moment. He knew he'd lost it in there. The guilt of it was weighing on him and he realized he was incredibly exhausted.

"Dude, are you okay?" Hardison's voice was next to him.

Eliot opened his eyes and glanced at the hacker, not meeting his gaze. "I'm fine." He replied quietly.

"You're covered in blood."

Eliot looked down at his hands. "It's not mine."

Hardison stared at him, making no comment.

Nate and Sophie approached them. "Let's get out of here."

"Where's Parker?"

"Waiting for you guys." Parker appeared next to them out of nowhere.

They climbed into the van and Parker handed Eliot a towel. "You're okay, right?"

Eliot nodded with a growl. He was sick and tired of people asking him that.

"I think we should take a little break." Sophie spoke up from the front seat. "Maybe a week or two."

"Good idea." Hardison agreed, glancing in the rearview mirror at Eliot.

"The _hell_ am I supposed to do for a week or two?" Eliot demanded, trying to wipe all the blood off his hands.

"I don't know." Hardison looked over at Sophie. "Go to the gym, pick up girls, whatever it is that you do to relax, man."

Eliot cursed under his breath. "Just drop me off."

"What, here?"

"Yeah, here, Hardison."

Hardison pulled the van over and looked back at Eliot. "Man, don't –"

"Dammit, Hardison," Eliot flung the van door open. "Just shut up!" He jumped out of the van, catching a glimpse of Parker's concerned face before slamming the door closed. He looked around him, getting his bearings and took off down the street. Soon enough he approached one of his favorite bars and without a second thought, pushed his way through the door. Hardison was right, as much as he hated to admit it. What he needed was a few stiff drinks and a good fuck with a stranger. He went directly up to the bar and ordered a shot of whiskey, followed by another and another.

"Rough day at the office?" A sultry feminine voice spoke close to him, almost too close. He looked over and found himself face to face with a young blonde. She was dressed in a short, low-cut hot black number which clung tightly to her body, accentuating her every asset, of which she had many.

"Yeah, something like that." He downed another shot and held up the empty shot glass. "You want one?"

She smiled, brown eyes glinting in the dim bar lights. "As long as a handsome man is buying."

He bought both of them a round of shots, then another. They chased the second round with a third and fourth and Eliot was beginning to feel the buzz. Normally, he wouldn't have put himself in a situation where he was off his game, unable to pay complete attention to his surroundings, but tonight he didn't care.

The blonde sidled up to him, running her hand lightly down his arm. "What do you say we take the party back to my place?"

He downed his last shot, dropped cash on the bar and stood up. "Perfect."

She giggled and took his arm as they exited the bar, both stumbling out onto the sidewalk. She hailed a cab and he listened closely to the address she gave, filing it away in the memory banks of his brain in case he had to have it later. He hadn't done this in a while, going home with a stranger. He couldn't even remember what her name was. Michelle… no, maybe it was Maria? He shrugged mentally. It didn't matter; he'd forget her by tomorrow anyway.

The cab dropped them off at the address the girl gave and Eliot was met with a towering apartment building. It was nicer than he'd thought a girl like her could afford. Then again, he didn't really know her, so what did he really know about her or how much money she had.

"Nice, right?" She smiled at him.

"Yeah." He nodded. He could tell she was completely drunk on her feet at this point and he put an arm around her waist to keep her from falling off her heels as they walked through the main door. She clung to him, perhaps a bit too much for his liking, but he let her. He'd be gone in a few hours anyway. They stepped into the elevator and she pressed the button for the seventh floor and turned to him, suddenly pressing her lips to his before the doors even closed. He kissed her back, throwing out his concerns and ignoring the warning bells in his head. They almost fell out of the elevator when the doors opened and she stumblingly led him down the hall, fishing for her keys and giggling. She pulled him into her apartment, dropping her purse as she let the door close. She stumbled in her heels and he caught her, laying her down on her couch, his hand running up her leg, lifting the edge of her dress even higher than it already was.

"Fuck me now." She whispered to him, pulling at his pants.

He tried to ignore the buzzed feeling in his head, the fact that his vision was a little blurry should have concerned him, but he paid no attention. He undid his pants, kicking them off and pushing himself between her legs. He closed his eyes as he entered her. God it felt good, like he hadn't done this in forever. He blocked out all thought, focusing on the girl underneath him as he roughly thrust into her. Perhaps he was being too rough, fucking her too hard, but he wasn't hearing any complaints on her end, just fast, gasping breaths and satisfied moans.

His phone suddenly went off and he cursed loudly. Of all things to interrupt…

"Ignore it." She begged, clutching at his arm.

"Can't." He replied. The only calls he got were from his team, and since they'd all agreed to take a week or two off, this call concerned him. He pulled out of the blonde and reached into the pocket of his jeans for his cell, answering it quickly. "What?"

"Eliot," Hardison's voice came through, sounding rushed and panicked. "Don't have… time."

Eliot stood up straight, suddenly alert. "What happened?"

"Trouble." Hardison's voice crackled, as if his phone were losing reception. "The team… Moreau… Get help."

The line went dead.

"Fuck!" Eliot threw his phone at the wall.

"I thought that's what we were doing?" The girl smiled at him from where she was still sprawled on the couch.

"I have to go." He pulled his pants on and reached for his boots, silently fuming. This was seriously the last straw.

"What?!" The girl objected, sitting up. "We're not done!"

"I. Have. To. Go." He ground out from between clenched teeth, snatching up his phone from where he'd thrown it. "Uh, by, Marilyn."

"It's Monica."

He shook his head, grabbed his shirt and ran out the door. Hardison had sounded scared and the fact that the hacker had said"Moreau" did not make Eliot feel any better about the situation. Instead of waiting for the elevator, Eliot took the stairs, running down them faster than was safe and nearly crashing through the door on the ground level. Dashing out into the street, he hailed a cab. He jumped in as one pulled up and quickly gave the driver an address that was a few blocks down from Leverage headquarters. If Moreau really was involved, he wanted to make sure not to lead any henchmen directly to where the team worked. On the way, he tried calling the rest of the team's phones. No one was answering. "Dammit!"

"Is everything alright, sir?" The cabbie looked at him in the rear view mirror.

Eliot ran a hand over his face. "Just hurry up!" He barked. It dawned on him that there was one thing he hadn't tried yet. Pulling his earbud out of his pocket, he put it into his ear.

"Nate?" Nothing. "Sophie?" Still nothing. "Parker? Hardison?" Silence. "Dammit."

"Um, here's your stop, sir."

Eliot paid for the cab and jumped out, rushing toward the condo. He had to get into the office. Even though he didn't know a damn thing about computers and in fact sucked horribly at trying to use them, he had to find Hardison's to try and find out some information.  
He headed around the back way, up the fire escape and into the emergency exit door on the third floor. They always kept that door open, just in case, and Eliot was glad they did. As he got to the door of the office, he looked around, making sure no one else was there before entering the office and closing and locking the door behind him.

Going directly into Hardison's office, he sat down at the hacker's desk and stared at the computer screen in front of him. It was asking for a password.

"Fuck." How was he supposed to know what a world-renowned hacker like Hardison had as his password? He typed in a couple of possibilities and came up empty. Nothing worked. He stood up so fast that he knocked over the desk chair, before storming off into the main briefing room. Maybe something was up on the big screens. He brought up the screens and searched through all the open browser windows, like Hardison had shown him. Still nothing. All he could find were links related to research they'd done for their last job.

He tried the comms again. Silence. He tried calling their phones. Nothing.

"God damn it!" He yelled at the empty office, kicking over one of the chairs in his anger. "What the fuck am I supposed to do?!"

After punching a hole in the wall, he stood still, breathing hard, trying to focus. Everything was turning red. All he could think about was that one word Hardison had said. _Moreau_. If he really was behind this, the team could already be dead. That thought made Eliot even angrier. He pulled out his phone and punched in a few numbers. It was all he could do to not squeeze his phone to bits as he waited for someone to pick up.

"Hello?"

"I'm looking for Moreau."

"Please hold."

Eliot waited, impatiently pacing back and forth.

"This is Moreau."

Eliot stopped pacing, eyes flashing angrily. "What the hell have you done with my team?"

"Nice to talk to you, too, Spencer." Moreau laughed dryly, "I'm so sorry something happened to your team. What makes you think I know anything it?"

"Don't fuck with me." Eliot growled.

Moreau laughed again. "Maybe we should talk about this in person. Boston Park Plaza Hotel. 10 o'clock."

The line went dead and Eliot stared at his phone, his other hand clenched into a fist at his side. It was already 9:30, the hotel Moreau had named was across town. He had to leave now if he was supposed to get there on time. Muttering curses under his breath, he stormed out of the office and made his way out the way he'd come in. He went around to the back alley where his Challenger was parked and jumped in.

When he got about two blocks away, he parked his car and slowly stepped out into the street. He had to check out the place before just barging straight in and throwing punches. Knowing Moreau, all entrances would be monitored. He probably already knew that Eliot was there.

"Fuck." Eliot muttered to himself.

There was no getting around this. He walked up to the main doors and was immediately approached by two men in suits. He could see the guns in their shoulder holsters, hidden to those who didn't know how to look. One of the men reached forward for Eliot's arm. Eliot reacted instantly, grabbing the man's wrist in his iron grip and twisting it painfully behind the man's back. He heard the cock of a gun and looked over to see the other man pointing a pistol at him. He could easily take the man out, but instead he let go of the first man and took a step back, holding out his hands to show he was unarmed.

"I'm just here to talk to Moreau."

The man who had reached for him glared silently and Eliot could see the fear in both men's eyes.

"Walk." The man with the gun said coldly.

Eliot did as he was instructed, walking into the hotel lobby in front of the two men. He was directed towards the elevator and escorted in. He knew the man still had a gun on him, but he wasn't worried. The elevator dinged when they reached the top floor and Eliot was greeted with two more armed men as he stepped out into the hall. He could take on all four men, no problem, but that wouldn't prove anything or help out his team, so he resigned to being escorted down the hall to the Presidential suite. Two more men guarded the door. One stepped forward in front of Eliot.

"Gotta check him for weapons."

"Don't have any." Eliot told him. He couldn't really mention the fact that he didn't need any because he himself was a weapon.

The man stopped short, looking Eliot over skeptically. "Sure, and I suppose you've come here just to talk?" He laughed derisively and stepped up to pat Eliot down.

Eliot bit his tongue and held back his initial instinct to beat the man senseless. After nodding to the other two men that Eliot was clean, the hotel door opened and Eliot was escorted inside. They stopped in what looked like a lavishly decorated living area and Eliot stood still, waiting.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Error 404

"_But a brush with the Devil can clear your mind_  
_And strengthen your spine_  
_But fingers tap into what you were once_  
_And I'm worried that I blew my only chance…_"  
-Mumford and Sons, "Whispers in the Dark"

Eliot stood, feet spread apart, arms crossed over his chest. Ten. That was the number of men he'd have to take out if it came down to it. And that wasn't counting Moreau himself. He factored in how fast he'd have to move, which men to take out first in order to avoid being shot. He could easily take the guns from the two men standing next to him and end all this now – the thought struck him like a blow to the gut. Since when had he decided that death was an option?

"Spencer!" Moreau's voice cut through his conflicted thoughts. "So good of you to come."

Eliot said nothing.

Moreau waved his men away, smiling at Eliot. "Come. Sit."

Eliot took a step closer to Moreau, taking a mental note of the fact that two of the men had their guns half out of their holsters.

Moreau sat in a heavily cushioned chair, smiling at the girl who brought him champagne. "Please join me."

"I'll stand." Eliot responded.

"Suit yourself." Moreau shrugged one shoulder. "Now, what was the big important thing you wanted to talk about?" He paused for a moment and Eliot saw that familiar calculated evil glint in his eyes. "You wanted to come back to work for me, right?" He laughed as Eliot stiffened slightly. It took all the hitter's self-control to not leap across the room and unload the wound up spring of his emotions on the cruel killer in front of him.

"Come now." Moreau sipped his drink and then set it down on the side table next to him. "Loosen up, Spencer. What makes you think I know anything about your team? Or, that I may have them?"

"Don't play games with me, Moreau." Eliot growled, his blue eyes flashing his anger for the man who sat before him.

"Games?" Moreau's eyes narrowed dangerously. "You've gone soft, Spencer. If I had your team you wouldn't know about it until their heads showed up on your doorstep."

Eliot's jaw clenched and he nearly took a step towards Moreau before stopping himself. He knew Moreau was playing with him, pushing his buttons just to gauge his reactions.

Moreau leaned back in his chair. "I haven't touched your team. But I know who could have."

"And what do I have to do for you to give me that name?" Eliot asked, his voice dangerously quiet.

Moreau laughed. "Ever the clever one, Spencer. You may be surprised to find that I wasn't going to request anything from you."

Eliot stared, clearly not trusting that statement.

"However," Moreau continued, "Now that you bring it up, just taking this man out of the running would be enough payment."

Eliot still didn't trust it. There was something else, something deeper, going on here, but he couldn't put his finger on it and he knew that Moreau wouldn't say anything more.

"Name?"

"Delgado. César Delgado."

Eliot's stance shifted slightly, but his shoulders showed he was still tensed and keyed up for a fight. "What do I need to know about him?"

Moreau smiled coolly. "He used to be an associate of mine, a key player in my line of work. Now he is of no use to me, taking him out would make my job… easier. And having you do it would be even better."

The last thing Eliot wanted was to do anything that would make Moreau's job any easier, but he nodded anyway.

Moreau was still smiling, "Good luck, Spencer."

Eliot turned quickly toward the door, nearly running into one of the other men. The man reached out his arm, trying to block Eliot's way and the hitter grabbed it with lightning speed, snapping it out of joint and jabbing a sharp elbow into the man's ribs. The man went down and Eliot found himself on the business ends of six guns. His vision was starting to turn red. He knew how to take all of them out and take out Moreau in the process. He was about to charge at the man closest to him when Moreau's voice cut through the tense silence.

"Let him go."

He didn't look back as the men stepped out of the way, he knew that if he even so much as glanced at any of the men – or at Moreau – that he wouldn't be able to stop himself. Focusing on the door was what would get him out of there without killing anyone. He held himself together long enough to get to the stairs, ignoring some of the hotel guests who were walking down the hallway. Once entering the stairs, he slammed his fist into the wall in the stairwell. He knew it was a bad move, but he also knew he had to take care of this mess. His vision was still tinged in red and he knew he needed to hold it together; it was a very thin line he was walking. As he stormed down the stairs he thought about what he could do. He'd been given a name, but it was nothing if he couldn't figure out how to use it.

Delgado. The name didn't ring a bell. But, with all the other bells going off in his head, it was hard to tell them all apart. His brain was on overdrive – alert to all the goings on around him. He was acutely aware that two of Moreau's men were following him as he exited the hotel, but he knew they wouldn't follow him too far. When he reached his Challenger, he leaned against the driver's door and took a deep breath. His head felt heavy, those shots he'd had only a couple of hours earlier were still buzzing around inside his skull.

All he could think about was hunting down this Delgado guy and beating him within an inch of his life. Or maybe he'd go that extra inch… With a growl, he flung the car door open and got in, angrily starting the engine and peeling away from the curb. It wasn't until he'd gotten halfway across town that he realized just how fast he was driving. Cursing, he slowed down, taking a few side streets in circles until he pulled up into the alley behind McRory's. He checked the streets, counting all the places where snipers or hitmen could be hiding out. The number didn't make him feel any better. Pushing open the door to the bar, he searched the sea of faces. No one jumped out at him as looking overly suspicious.

"Eliot."

Eliot turned in a split second, coming face to face with a smiling Cora. Her smile quickly faded as she looked him over.

"Are you okay?" She asked quietly. "What happened?"

He took her by the elbow and led her off to the side. "I can't tell you everything. Have you gotten any calls from Nate or the others?"

She shook her head. "No. What's going on?"

"It'd be better if you didn't know the details." Eliot glanced around, lowering his voice. "The team is in trouble. If you hear anything from them or see or hear anything suspicious, call me." He jotted down his number on a bar napkin and pressed it into her hand. "Thanks." He offered a weak smile and headed for the back stairs.

He'd been thinking about what he could do. Without a hacker, his options were limited. As he approached the door to room 2A, he glanced around, double-checking that no one had followed him up. With a sigh, he entered the office and locked the door behind him. He had to find some way to use that computer in the briefing room. It couldn't be that damn difficult.

Growling curses under his breath, he went into Hardison's office and started digging through the drawers on the hacker's desk. There had to be something in there that would help him. He opened the second drawer on the desk and pulled out a spiral bound notebook. On the front cover was written in thick black permanent marker: _"The Hitter's Guide to Hacking"_ and under that in parentheses it said _"For Eliot"_ with a smiley face.

Eliot stared. _Seriously?!_ He remembered Hardison had said something several weeks ago about writing a computer manual that Eliot would be able to understand. The hitter thought it was a joke, just Hardison poking fun at the fact that Eliot was completely illiterate when it came down to electronics.

"Apparently not." He muttered to himself, taking the notebook and going into the briefing room. Sitting on the couch, he pulled up the six screens, as Hardison had shown him before, and then opened the notebook. The first page contained a brief introductory note:

_"__You thought I was kidding. Gotcha!  
Age of the geek, baby.  
-Hardison"_

Eliot flipped to the next page titled "Table of Contents" and scanned through the short list. His eyes landed on "How to use the computer in the briefing room" and he saw a page number. Damn Hardison. He'd even numbered all the pages of this stupid thing.

Eliot turned to the correct page and started reading. Everything was listed out in simple, numbered steps.

_Step 1: Find the computer remote. Hint: It looks similar to a TV remote. You know what those are._

"Really?" Eliot looked at the remote sitting on the coffee table in front of him. Like he didn't know what the remote for these TVs looked like.

_Step 2: Do NOT touch the Big Red RESET Button on the remote.  
Step 3: Seriously. Don't even think about it.  
Step 4: I mean it, man, don't do it.  
Step 5: If you still pressed the Big Red Button, refer to Step 57 and hide before I kill you._

Eliot couldn't help but smile as he continued to read through the steps. Hardison did have a knack for getting into his brain sometimes, at least as far as computers were concerned.

_Step 6: So, you resisted the Big Red Button? Good job.  
Step 7: Look at the remote.  
Step 8: No really. Look. At. It.  
Step 9: That big round button in the middle is the mouse clicker._

Eliot skimmed through the next few steps, becoming increasingly impatient and irritated at the simplicity and overall amount of steps.

_Step 13: No, you can't hit the computer to make it work.  
Step 14: Your eyes are hurting. Take a break._

Growling, Eliot stood up from the couch and went into the kitchen to make himself a cup of coffee. With a steaming mug of caffeine in his hands he went back to the couch.

_Step 15: Get a cup of coffee.  
Step 16: Feel better?  
Step 17: Good._

Eliot blinked. "Dammit, Hardison!" How did the hacker always know what he was going to do? He continued reading, precisely following the instructions.

_Step 22: Seriously, don't hurt my keyboard. I'm pretty sure it's worth more than your car._

"Like hell." Eliot muttered. He continued to read through the steps, figuring out relatively quickly how to do an internet search on the big screens. He typed in César Delgado and looked through the results. It seemed like there was nothing too important about the man. By all accounts he was a nice, prominent member of the Boston city council. Born in Mexico City, Delgado was credited for taking down a major part of the cartel and corrupt government before coming to Boston about five years ago. Eliot read more about Delgado, storing everything into the filing cabinet in his brain. He took another look at the manual.

_Step 33: Take another break.  
Step 34: Seriously. Walk around. Drink more coffee. Punch something._

Eliot would have laughed if he wasn't so pissed off. He knew Hardison had intended this as a joke of sorts, not thinking that he'd actually have a situation like this where he'd have to use it. But he did as the steps instructed, getting up from the couch again and pacing back and forth in front of the big screens. Even after following the steps and finding what little information he could about Delgado, he felt like it wasn't enough. He didn't have all the tricks that Hardison did, he didn't know how to dig deeper, to hack into places and find out all the deepest, darkest secrets.

After filling his cup with more coffee, he went back to the couch and the manual. He followed the steps to look up the com lines and looked at the map that came up on the screen. There were no red dots on the map. According to Step 45… _it means our coms have been destroyed._ Fuck. There was no blue square on the map for Lucille, either. Double fuck. _Now_ he needed to punch something. But, instead he continued reading.

The next steps outlined how to pull up the six surveillance cameras which Hardison had up around the outside of the office and around McRory's, both inside and out. Eliot leaned back on the couch. His eyes searched every inch of every camera, roaming the faces, making mental notes of all that was happening. Nothing weird seemed to be going on. No one looked out of place. Just the usual rowdy Thursday night crowd. He continued to watch the screens intently, making sure he missed nothing.

At some point in the night Eliot felt something poking him on the shoulder. He started awake. When had he fallen asleep? In one quick motion, he abruptly jumped to his feet and turned to face whatever it was that was poking him.

"Morning." Parker grinned at him, perched on the arm rest of the couch.

"Parker!" Eliot stared, looking at the thief as if she were a ghost. "What the fuck?"

Parker tilted her head to the side, some of her blonde hair falling in front of her face. "What?"

Eliot stepped toward her, looking her over in the morning light that shone through the window blinds. Her hair was disheveled; there was dirt on her face and a bruise under her eye. "Are you okay?" He asked, unable to hide the concern in his voice as he stepped closer to look at her.

The thief bit her bottom lip and nodded, looking away from him and rubbing at some of the dirt on her face. "They didn't have very good locks." She said quietly.

Eliot's mouth twitched into a half smile. Of course they didn't. "What about the others?" He walked into the kitchen pouring two cups of coffee and grabbing a towel. Walking back to the couch, he handed Parker the towel and placed a cup in front of her on the coffee table.

"Parker?"

The thief stayed silent for another moment. "You used Hardison's book." She looked up from the "Hitter's Guide to Hacking" still open on the table. "You tried to find us."

Eliot winced. "Yeah. I did." The truth was he felt useless, inept, like an enormous failure. Not only had he failed to find his team, even by following Hardison's carefully outlined steps, he'd also fallen asleep at some point during the night. Some rescuer he was.

"It's okay, you're not Hardison." Parker smiled at him, wiping some the dirt off her face with her sleeve. "I don't know where the others are. We went out for pizza after…" She looked at him for a moment and frowned, "After you left. They came after us when we were walking out."

There it was again. That feeling of being useless to his team. His actions, his emotions and his inability to brace the floodgates that held back the anger and violence he tried so hard to suppress…. All of that had cumulated to him not being there for his team when they needed him.

"How many were there, Parker?" He asked quietly, watching her face closely. "What did they look like? Did they have accents? Anything distinctive about them?"

Parker's face scrunched up in thought. "Nothing I can remember. It happened very quickly. Sophie was grabbed by a man in a black mask." Her face brightened up suddenly. "He had a tattoo! The man who grabbed Sophie."

"Great." Eliot reached for the manual on the table, flipping through it until he found a blank page. He grabbed one of the pens sitting on the table and handed both to Parker. "Draw it."

Parker took the paper and pen from him, nodding. "Also, there was another guy, no two, they had guns on me and Nate. Hardison ran away from the guy who tried to grab him but they got him with a needle of something, like a dart, I guess, that put him out."

That explained the panicked phone call.

"Anything else?" Eliot pressed.

Parker glanced up from where she was sketching. "One of them said something about Moreau, but I couldn't understand all he said. He had a thick accent."

"What kind of accent? Spanish? German? British?"

"Spanish or something like it." Parker turned her attention back to sketching. "That's all I can remember. I woke up in an empty warehouse. Got out of the cuffs in less than four seconds and out of the building in under two minutes. It was on the waterfront. Near that pier where we had that… thing with that gun running mayor."

Eliot nodded. He closed his eyes for a moment, rubbing his forehead. "Are you okay though, Parker?" He asked, looking at her.

She looked at him, meeting his eyes. He could see the fear and pain there. "Yes. But we need to go get the others."

"I know." Eliot stood up from the couch. "I'm going to take a quick shower. You finish that sketch and drink some coffee."

She nodded silently. He studied her for a moment before going up the stairs to take a shower. All of them kept a few extra sets of clothes stashed in Nate's apartment, just in case. He grabbed a clean set and stepped into the bathroom, turning on the water as he stripped down. He stood in front of the mirror for a moment, watching as the edges slowly began to fog up from the steam of the shower. He could see how tense he was – he knew how much anger he was hiding behind those eyes that stared back at him. With a growl, he held back the instinct to punch the glass and stepped into the welcome warm water, letting it wash away the previous day's dirt, blood, sex, and worry. He closed his eyes. Parker was here. She would be able to help him think through this and find a good way to get the others out safely. He stood there, head bowed, letting the water wash over him and trying to relax at least a little bit.

"Eliot." Parker's voice came from the other side of the shower curtain.

The hitter jumped slightly, growling under his breath. "Parker. Personal space."

"But, your phone's making noise."

"Fuck." He reached around the curtain for a towel as he turned off the water. "Hand it to me."

He wrapped the towel around his waist, opening the shower curtain to see Parker holding out his phone to him. It was still ringing. Glaring at the thief, he grabbed the phone from her and answered it. "Yes?"

"Eliot? It's Cora."

He tensed. "What happened? Did you hear anything?"

"There's a young woman looking for you down here." Cora spoke quietly. "Showing your picture around."

His heart stopped for a brief moment. "What did you tell her?"

"Nothing. I just thought you'd want to know."

"Thanks, Cora. I'll take care of it." He hung up and looked at Parker, glaring. "Get out. Go bring up the surveillance cameras on the screens downstairs."

The thief turned on her heal, seemingly upset at his response.

With a groan, Eliot leaned against the wall of the bathroom. Why did this have to happen? Every time life seemed to be going okay, something had to come along and fuck it up. Drying himself off, he quickly got dressed and pulled his still wet hair back into a hurried ponytail. He headed down the stairs and over to the screens on which showed the cameras.

"What are we looking for?" Parker asked, crunching on cereal from her perch on the couch.

"Someone out of place." Eliot answered vaguely, blue eyes scanning the two cameras which showed the inside of McRory's. "There."

He zoomed in on one of the cameras. A short, dark-haired woman was leaning against the bar, holding a picture in one hand and chatting to another bar patron. The camera didn't show her face, just her back and a small slice of tattoo peeking out from below the hem of her shirt. Eliot nearly dropped the remote.

"Fuck." He whispered.

"What?" Parker stood up.

Eliot turned quickly, eyes blazing. "Stay. Here."

Parker opened her mouth to respond, but closed it as he glared at her.

"I mean it, Parker. _Please_."

She nodded silently and went back to eating her cereal.

Eliot offered her a slight smile, trying to show her everything would be okay, as he walked out the door. He went quickly down the back stairs, forcing himself to unclench the fist his hand had unknowingly made. This day was just getting better and better. Stepping out of the stairwell, he looked around the bar. It was already busy for a Friday morning. He glanced over at Cora. The poor girl looked beat but she nodded her head to the left. He followed Cora's direction and spotted her immediately. Standing at five foot nothing with dark hair, trying to talk to everyone. Low cut jeans and a too-short t-shirt. Now he could see that tribal dragon tattoo more clearly. He walked up behind her.

"Good morning, Erin." He spoke just loudly enough for her to hear him, forcing his voice to remain low and calm. "I hear you're looking for me."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Catching Up

_"__What he loves might kill him_  
_But he's got no choice_  
_He's a different breed_  
_With a voice down deep inside_  
_That's screamin' he was born to ride…"_  
-Garth Brooks, "The Fever"

Erin Summers had been driving all night, looking for this hole in the wall called _McRory's_. She finally found it around eight in the morning, surprised to find it was still open. Most bars she knew of would be long closed and not open until sometime in the afternoon. She parked her truck across the street and grabbed a photo from where it was tucked behind the driver's side sun visor. This bar was the last place she knew of to look for him.

The bar door dinged as she entered and her eyes adjusted to the dim bar lighting. She looked around and smiled to herself, her green eyes glinting. This was definitely a place he'd be likely to hang out in.

"Morning. Welcome to McRory's." A redheaded young woman, who looked like she'd been up all night, smiled tiredly at Erin.

Erin smiled back. "Hi. I'm looking for this man." She held out the picture to the redhead. "Have you seen him?"

The redhead looked from Erin to the picture and back to Erin. "No, can't say I have."

"Are you sure?" Erin pressed, smiling sweetly.

The redhead shook her head. "Nope. Haven't seen him."

"Well do you mind if I ask around in here?"

"Nope. If anyone gets huffy, tell them Cora said you could ask questions."

Erin smiled. "Thanks." She pushed herself away from the bar and approached an older man sitting by himself. After a few minutes of dead ends, she walked up to another bar patron.

"Good morning, Erin." A familiar deep voice drawled quietly behind her. "I hear you're looking for me."

Erin turned quickly. Her heart caught in her throat and she nearly dropped the photo she was carrying. Her green eyes searched his face, more tan, more rugged than she remembered. He stood, feet spread slightly, arms crossed over his chest. Very _muscular_ arms. He filled out that plaid shirt and jeans nicely. And his eyes, those bright blue orbs, pierced into her through a few wisps of long hair that framed his face. She smiled brightly.

"H-Hi, Jackson." She stammered.

He blinked. "No one calls me that."

Erin narrowed her eyes slightly. "No, "hello, nice to see you, Erin"?"

She could see his jaw clench and his eyes flashed. "Nice to see you, Erin." He gritted out. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, geez, I guess I'm not very welcome here, am I?" She put her hands on her hips, glaring up at him. "I can't just drop by and say "hi"?"

He looked around the bar and then back to her, his eyes softening slightly. Her heart fluttered as she saw a familiar shine in his eyes, if only for a second.

"I left home finally." She said quietly. "Shelley said he thought you'd be here. I just wanted to see if you were still around."

He cursed under his breath. Of course his old Special Ops buddy would tell his ex-girlfriend where to find him. Damn Shelley.

"Let's go into the back room." He turned and walked toward the back, expecting her to follow. He closed the door behind her and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest again. "Now is really not a good time, Erin."

"Oh really?"

He sighed, rubbing his temple. "Look, I'd love to catch up." Not really. "But, I have a job I'm in the middle of."

She sat on the edge of the table. "Shelley said you work with a group of people who steal stuff from bad guys to help good guys. Robin Hood style."

"Of course he did." He groaned, "Your brother and I go way back, Erin, but Shelley doesn't know what I do and I can't get into it right now."

She looked at him. "I know you, Jackson, or I knew you really well, at one point. You wouldn't do anything to intentionally hurt anyone. It can't be so bad that you can't tell me."

"My name is Eliot, Erin. Eliot Spencer." Eliot narrowed his eyes at her, making a choice not to respond to the "not hurting anyone" part of her statement. "No one calls me Jackson."

She just glared back at him, crossing her arms over her chest and lifting her chin, almost daring him to continue. She was too stinking cute when she did that. _Fuck_. He caught himself before those thoughts went any further.

"Fine, Erin, I'll give you the short version."

She smiled, as if she'd won something, and leaned forward eagerly.

"I work with four other… _professionals_." Eliot watched her closely. "We help out the underdogs, people who are being fucked over by the big CEOs and their companies. We've taken down some big names and some very dangerous people. My coworkers, my _friends_, have been kidnapped by a man with strong ties to the Mexican cartel and other very nasty people. Killers, Erin, that's who I'm up against." He paused and saw the realization in her eyes. "So when I tell you that now is really not a good time, what I mean is there's going to be blood and lots of it. I can't deal with… _you_ in the middle of all this."

She blinked. "When you say "blood"… are you going to be _preventing_ it, or _causing_ it?"

"Hopefully more of the first one." He answered quietly. "But I can't guarantee anything."

She sat for a moment and then nodded. "I want to help."

"Fuck no!" He pushed himself off the wall and stepped closer to her. "You don't realize what I'm up against, Erin. Killers. Kidnappers. People who would sooner torture you only to see my reaction. My friends have been taken by these people."

"Well, from what I remember, you always stood up for your friends, no matter what kind of shit they got themselves into." She smiled up at him and laid her hand on his shoulder. He shuddered slightly at the touch. "You stood up for me and Shelley often enough."

Eliot took a step back, away from the reaction her touch had caused. His mind was whirling. Why the fuck did his crazy ex-girlfriend have to show up now, of all times? He couldn't just walk away; she was too persistent and would get herself and him into more trouble. But he was hesitant to let her into what had become his own little family. He knew it would screw up the dynamic. Hell, she was already messing with his head and she'd only been here for a few minutes.

His phone went off, startling him with its loud ringing.

"What?"

"Are you coming back upstairs?" Parker's voice came through from the other side. "I finished that sketch."

Eliot closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Come down to the bar, Parker, close down the computer, lock the office and bring that sketch."

"Okay."

He hung up and looked at Erin. "Do you have a car?"

Erin nodded. "Yeah, I've got Dad's old truck."

Eliot let a small smile escape for a brief moment, before turning serious again. "It's not safe here. If you could find me this easily, so can other people."

He opened the door and looked out, scanning the small crowd in the bar. He looked back at her. "Go get your truck and drive down two blocks. Parker and I will meet you there."

She slid off the table and glared up at him. "Who's Parker? And why am I driving anywhere?"

"God damn it, Erin." Eliot's hand clenched into a fist. "I have killers who are after me and who have my friends. The only reason I've lived this long is because I'm cautious and have ways of keeping bad guys off my tail."

"Fine." She huffed, pushing past him to get through the door. She stopped as she stood next to him, so close she could smell him. Her breath caught in her throat and she felt a knot in the pit of her stomach. Dammit, she'd been hoping that seeing him would be closure, that she wouldn't feel anything. It'd been five fucking years after all. But apparently her emotions had other ideas. "I-I'll be down the block." She murmured, noting how he looked at her, some emotion briefly showing in his eyes.

He just nodded, silent, and watched her walk out the door.

"So, what are we doing?" Parker's voice startled him, and he glared at the thief.

"We're going to my condo."

"Oooh, I like your condo." Parker smiled. "It's cozy and clean."

Eliot shook his head. The fact that she knew what his condo looked like disturbed him a little bit. Then again, it was Parker. "What are you carrying?" He motioned to the bag she held.

"Oh, just a few things from the office. Hardison's back up laptop, some earbuds, an extra taser… you know."

Eliot pinched the bridge of his nose again. These women were driving him crazy. "Alright. Let's go. Erin's had enough time."

"Who's Erin?" Parker asked, following him out the back door and down the alley to another side street.

"Old friend." Eliot responded shortly. "Don't worry about her, okay?"

Parker looked at him, an obvious question in her eyes, but she remained silent. They approached an old looking, slightly rusty Toyota truck that looked as though it used to be a pretty shade of deep red at one point.

Eliot walked up to the driver's side. "I'm driving."

"Like _hell_-"

"_Move_." He growled.

Erin quickly scooted over to the middle seat, now in between Eliot and Parker.

Eliot barely glanced at the two women, "Erin, this is Parker. Parker, Erin."

Erin flashed a warm smile at the thief. "Nice to meet you."

Parker looked the other woman over and narrowed her eyes. "She's not one of us, Eliot."

"No, she's not, Parker." Eliot sighed as he turned down one side street and then another. "I told you she's an old friend, from before I knew you guys."

"Ooooh," Parker nodded, suddenly understanding. "Got it."

Erin looked confusedly back and forth between Parker and Eliot, but said nothing. She watched Eliot's face as he drove. His jaw was tense, his eyes focused. He gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles were white. She knew from past experience not to distract him when he was so focused as he was now. It concerned her that he looked so intense, so… stressed out. She'd been hoping that he was living that carefree life of drinking and fishing he'd always talked about, but instead he was living on the edge, no surprise there. But this time he had friends. People he was obviously so close to that he was ready to risk his life and even kill for. She smiled to herself. He hadn't changed at all.

"We're here." Eliot had parked the truck in an alley and was already out and looking around. "We'll have to walk a block down, but so far we're safe." He held his hand out to help Erin out of the truck. She hesitated, then took it as she stepped out of the truck.

Goosebumps appeared on her skin. His hand was warm, calloused, but gentle. She smiled at him, even as he quickly pulled his hand away. He didn't look at her, but she smiled anyway.

Erin and Parker followed Eliot down a block and into the back door of a residential building. He led them up several flights of stairs and out onto the fifth floor.

"You're not on this floor." Parker stated.

Eliot sighed. "I know, Parker. Precautions, remember?"

Parker nodded and followed alongside Erin as Eliot stepped into the elevator. He pressed the button for the seventh floor. When the elevator came to a stop, he silently held his arm out to keep the girls back so he could check out the hallway first. He stepped out of the elevator, silent on his feet and looked up and down the hallway. He approached the door to his condo and opened it without so much as a click from unlocking it. Quickly scouting through all the rooms, he made his way to the front door.

"Everything is clear." He quietly called down the hallway, seeing Parker poking her head out of the elevator.

The thief skipped down the hall and straight into his condo, looking around with a nod of approval. "Still looks good."

Erin followed more cautiously, pausing slightly before walking into his condo. She looked around. It was sparsely decorated, but warm and everything clean and in its place. On one wall several Samurai swords hung on display. The kitchen had more gadgets and appliances than all the other rooms in the place.

She set down the bag she'd taken with her from the truck and turned to him as he closed and locked the door. "Remind me again why we had to run all the way over here?" She put her hands on her hips and cocked her head to one side, irritated.

"You know what, fuck you, Erin."

"Well, fuck you too, Jackson."

Parker looked back and forth between them. "Who's Jackson?"

Eliot glared at Erin.

"_He's_ Jackson." Erin pointed at Eliot. "At least that's what he went by when _I_ knew him."

"No one _calls_ me that anymore." Eliot growled. "What the _fuck_ do you want, Erin? I've got friends to save."

"Well, hell," Erin threw her hands in the air, exasperated. "I just wanted to sit around and chit-chat. What the _fuck_ do you think I want, Jacks–" He glared at her. "_Eliot_."

Eliot breathed in deeply and let out a long sigh. "Parker, can you give us a minute, please?"

The thief promptly sat down Indian-style in a chair, looking at them expectantly. Erin looked back and forth at them, confused.

Muttering curses under his breath, Eliot roughly grabbed Erin's arm, intending to lead her into the other room.

"Don't touch me." Erin attempted to pull away from his iron grasp.

He let go of her arm and closed the bedroom door behind them.

"The _fuck_ is wrong with you?" She turned on him the moment they were alone, rubbing her arm where he had so roughly grabbed her. "You hurt me. The man I knew never would have done that."

Eliot remained silent, not looking at her.

"Hey!" She grabbed his arm. "I'm talking to you!"

Without a sound, he pushed her back, pinned against the wall. His blue eyes were wild and bright with the emotions he could no longer suppress. Her breath caught in her throat. He'd been aggressive and physical before, but not like this. He saw the flash of fear cross her face and he punched the wall next to her, closing his eyes and forcing himself to calm down.

"Hey." She whispered, gently placing a hand on his chest. She could feel the tension in the muscles under her hand.

"What the hell is your game, Erin?" He asked quietly, his eyes calmer as he searched her face. She looked at him, relieved to see that he was in control again, but irritated at his question.

"I didn't realize I had to have a "game" in order to see you."

The anger hit his eyes again and he pushed her harder against the wall. His face was mere inches from hers and she could feel his heartbeat, surprisingly calm, against her hand.

"Don't play with me." He growled. "I'm not in the mood."

Without thinking about it, she brushed her lips against his briefly. Instead of pulling back like she'd expected, his mouth assaulted hers in a hot, passionate kiss. After a moment, he pulled back.

"I can't deal with this, Erin," he whispered, voice breaking slightly. "I can't be distracted right now."

She could see something in his eyes – something she could have sworn was a deep abiding pain. "Maybe a distraction is what you need most right now." She whispered back, pressing her lips to his again.

A sigh escaped from between his lips and he kissed her back deeply, putting his arm around her waist and pulling her tightly against him. He half-lifted, half-led her to his bed and laid her down. Her hands immediately began fumbling with his shirt, eager to pull it off. He obliged, tossing his shirt into the corner. He looked at her directly, breath quickening.

"I can't promise you anything, Erin." He spoke seriously.

A familiar mischievous glint lit up her green eyes. "Neither can I, _Eliot_." She said with a smirk, reaching up to pull his hair out of its pony tail. "Don't stall too long now, cowboy."

He couldn't help but chuckle a little at her response, remembering how their nights together used to be. "Fine then." He grinned at her through his hair.

"Just shut up and fuck me."

He pulled her shirt off and let her undo his belt. Kicking off his pants, he pulled hers off before reaching into his nightstand.

"Hurry up now," she grinned at him, "I'm getting restless."

He positioned himself over her, running his lips from her mouth to her ear. "Are you sure you're ready for me, darlin'?"

She moaned slightly, wrapping her arms around him to pull him closer. "Oh, baby, I've been ready for you since you walked out my door five years ago."

His eyes sparked and he thrust into her suddenly. He remembered that day clearly. More specifically how hard they'd fucked the night before he left. She'd said it had been the best night of her life.

"Do you think we can top that night?" He drawled in her ear, reveling in the noises she made as he moved inside her and the feeling of her bare skin against his.

"With you?" She grinned, then gasped as he pushed into her harshly. "_Always_."

She loved the physical connection they had when they were together. Sex with him wasn't some romantic fling, it was never slow nor sweet. It was harsh and rough; hot and passionate. It had always left her completely exhausted yet completely satisfied.

He was propped up over her, his muscular arms kept him from crushing her as he thrust in and out. She moaned under him, clutching him so tightly he was sure he'd have bloody nail marks on his back. He moved harder, faster, feeling himself reaching the edge.

She gasped suddenly and moaned loudly. Remembering that Parker was in the next room, Eliot quickly stifled Erin's moan with a kiss. She shuddered underneath him, eyes fluttering closed. He kissed her hotly as he pushed deep inside her, feeling the release. Letting out a long sigh, he collapsed on the bed next to her.

A slow smile crept across his face as he caught his breath. "I forgot how fucking good you feel."

She looked over at him with a satisfied grin. "I didn't."

He smiled at her, his blue eyes bright as he looked at her, then he looked away suddenly. "Erin, I…" He sat up. "I, um, I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" She sat up next to him. "For what?"

"Leaving."

Her laugh surprised him and he looked at her.

"I forgave you for that a long time ago." She smiled at him and kissed his cheek. "I knew you would walk out my door one day, it was bound to happen. You said so yourself."

"I can't promise you anything now, either." He told her, standing up and reaching for his pants. "I have a… different life."

"You've always had a different life." She began pulling her own clothes back on. "I knew that back when you were Jackson and I know that now that you're _Eliot_." She paused and looked at him, "What if I want to be different _with_ you?"

He stopped cold and stared at her. "Erin, you have no idea what kind of shit I've done. My past is catching up to me sooner rather than later and no one needs to be in the middle of it besides me."

She stood up, her short frame quivering with suppressed anger. "Don't start that with me!" She looked up at him, green eyes flashing as she crossed her arms over her chest. "You know I can handle what life throws at me and if you're with me, too, then what the hell?"

He stepped next to her, breaking into her personal space in the blink of an eye. "Erin, I-" He searched her face, looking deep into those emerald eyes that had captivated him all those years ago. _Fuck_. He was so screwed. "I can't let anything happen to you." He whispered.

"Is that your cryptic way of saying you still care?" She asked quietly.

"I'm trying here, okay." He cupped her cheek with one hand. Dammit, he was no good at this sort of thing, feelings and emotions and shit.

Her green gaze met his blue and she could see the raw emotion prevalent there. He _did_ care. Maybe he'd never moved past her – past _them_. She felt her heart stop and a weird fluttering in the pit of her stomach. She'd resigned herself to the idea that they'd have one last night of passion and go their separate ways but now… she had no _fucking_ clue.

"E-Eliot," she whispered his name, leaning into his hand. "I think we're fucked."

That drew a laugh from him. A hearty, deep, genuine laugh. She laughed with him, her eyes bright.

"I was thinking the same thing." He murmured into her hair as he pulled her closer. "Damn you, Erin, and your timing."

She smiled against his chest. "You know you love it."

He stiffened, she could feel it in the muscles that held her so tightly to his body. She glanced up at him. "Did I do it again?"

He looked at her. "What?"

"Say the wrong thing."

A brief smile flitted across his face, remembering how he used to get on her for saying the stupidest shit at the exact wrong times. "You didn't say anything wrong." He put a finger under her chin. That old southern drawl pushing its way to the surface. "I've just gotta get used to you bein' around again, my little lucky charm." He leaned in to kiss her.

She kissed him back, smiling against his lips at hearing the old nickname he used to call her. Reaching one hand up to his head, she ran her fingers through his hair. "I can't get over _this_. Since when did you have it this long?"

"Been a couple years now, I guess." He smiled as her hand traced from his hairline down his face to his chin. He suppressed the shudder that her touch brought. It was as if fire itself came from her fingertips, causing goosebumps to appear on his skin and the hair on the back of his neck to stand on end.

"You were right." He pulled her tightly to him again, his lips next to her ear. "We are _so_ fucked."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Twenty Pounds of Crazy

_"__When it comes to you  
Oh, the damage I could do  
It's always your favorite sins  
That do you in…"_  
-Kenny Chesney, "You and Tequila"

.~~~~~~~.

He was scared and Eliot Spencer was not one who scared easily. This whole mess with Erin was something entirely unexpected and the speed at which it had taken over his emotions and his actions scared the shit out of him. He was never one to openly show his feelings and he was definitely not one for relationships. But this thing – this moment – with Erin… God he was so fucked.

She was a hundred pounds of Irish crazy with a temper shorter than a leprechaun and he was pretty damn sure he was falling for her… Again. He cursed under his breath and rested his hands on the sink in front of him, eyeing the man in the mirror who stared back at him. He was torn between kicking her out, telling her to never look for him again, or, letting her be here to help how she could.

Erin had grown up country, with several equally crazy and equally Irish brothers. She could hold her own, he knew that, and she was always underestimated due to her size, but he was still concerned. And that feeling, that protectiveness that came upon him when he thought about her, he knew men like Moreau and Delgado would easily use it – use her – against him.

"Eliot?" A soft knock sounded on the door. "Is everything okay?"

Eliot growled and opened the door, his features softening immediately when he saw Erin. "Just frustrated."

She smiled and leaned up to kiss him. "We'll figure this out. Parker has something she wanted to show you."

Eliot nodded and grabbed his shirt, pulling it over his head as he stepped out into the living room. Parker had Hardison's backup laptop open and was busily typing away. In front of her on the coffee table lay different electronics and other items scattered around.

"There you are," she didn't look up from her typing, "Are you going to be nice now?"

Eliot blinked. "What are you talking about? I'm always nice!"

Parker made a face and shook her head. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Erin barely containing a laugh. He glared in her direction and walked over to Parker's chair.

"What are you doing?"

"Hardison has backup GPS locators." Parker glanced up at him, "He showed me how to make them work."

Eliot nodded. It was good Parker was here. He would have gone cross eyed already staring at all those numbers on that tiny screen.

"Can you do Hardison's special hacking thing to find out people's dark secrets?"

Parker's face scrunched up in thought and she paused her typing. "Yeah, I think so."

"Look up César Delgado," Eliot turned toward the kitchen, "I'll make us breakfast."

.~~~~~~~.

Erin followed Eliot into his kitchen, watching as he pulled ingredients out of his fridge.

"At least you're still cooking," she commented.

He shot her a glare. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She smiled. "It's good to see some things don't change."

A smile flickered on his face briefly before he went serious again, focusing on preparing food. She leaned against part of the counter and just watched as he cracked eggs and chopped vegetables. She had to step aside when he had to get something from the drawer she was leaning against, then she had to step to the other side when he reached for the fridge handle.

He growled and looked at her. His eyes were soft but still serious. "One other thing hasn't changed."

She tilted her head to the side, curious.

"I still don't like anyone in my kitchen, Erin."

She blinked. "But, I like to watch you."

With a sigh, he stepped closer to her. "Fine."

She squeaked in surprise as he suddenly picked her up, setting her on the countertop.

"You can watch," he grabbed his knife again and pointed it at her in a mock threatening manner, "But no distractions."

She smiled innocently. "Of course."

A few minutes passed in silence. The sound of Parker clicking away on the keyboard and Eliot frying eggs and chopping were the only things to be heard.

"Here," Eliot held a fork up to her mouth, "Try this."

She took a bite of the steaming egg in front of her. Her taste buds savored the explosion of flavor. "How do you do that?"

"Do what?"

She licked her lips. "All that flavor in one little bite."

He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Chef's secret." He stepped closer to her, leaning in to whisper in her ear. "But it has something to do with fresh basil."

She shuddered at the feel of his lips on her ear and she instinctively leaned toward him, nestling her face against his neck. She could hear his breath catch, feel his heartbeat skip for only a second.

"Damn you, Erin," he whispered hoarsely. That familiar drawl was back again and she could feel the rumble of his voice through his body, he was so close. He pulled back slightly to look at her, his eyes searching her face. "Why do you have to be so damned cute?"

She laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck, resting her forehead against his. "Same reason you have to be so damned perfect."

He closed his eyes for a moment. "Don't say that."

Her fingers played with the hair on the back of his neck. "You're my perfect cowboy."

His eyes snapped open and he fixed her with his piercing blue gaze. She could feel the heat from those eyes and forced herself to breathe as his lips brushed hers.

With a satisfied sigh, she leaned into his kiss, pulling him to her. He stepped closer, his arm snaking around her waist.

.~~~~~~~.

Part of him was freaking out inside about how quickly she managed to pull him in, make him nearly forget everything else. But another part of him wanted – _needed_ – the escape she brought. She was a welcome breath of fresh air in his smoky, bloody world.

Eliot suddenly pulled away. "Fuck!" He turned to the stove, cursing more under his breath as he dumped the now-singed omelet onto a plate.

"Yours might be a little burned." He looked at her.

She smiled, her eyes bright. "It was worth it."

He focused his attention on his cooking, trying to ignore the weird warm feeling in his chest. Glancing at her as he continued to cook, he saw that familiar contented smirk. And she was biting her bottom lip. God, he was a goner… Parker walked up with Hardison's laptop as he plated the second omelet.

"I think I found something."

Eliot looked at the thief expectantly.

"This Delgado guy," she frowned, "He's clean. Like super squeaky clean. But…"

"But, what?" Eliot asked.

Parker handed him a piece of paper. He looked at it and froze. It was the tattoo he'd asked her to sketch out.

"You recognize it."

It was a statement and he glanced at Parker, nodding once. "Mexican cartel. A very dangerous one."

"How do you know all that from one sketch?" Erin inquired.

"It's a very distinctive tattoo." Eliot replied shortly, "And this just makes our job ten times more dangerous."

"Which cartel?" Erin asked.

Eliot's eyes narrowed as he looked at her, "I'd rather not say. If you two know, they'd kill you, no questions."

He saw her eyes go wide.

"I did a search on this image," Parker spoke up, "And cross-referenced it with activity in Boston and came up with something."

Eliot smiled to himself at Parker's explanation. She was definitely hanging out with Hardison too much.

"There's been a lot of kidnappings and unexplained murders in Boston over the last several weeks," the thief continued, "But they've all been covered up and no one has been arrested." She paused and looked at Eliot.

"And…?"

"All the cover ups have ties to this Delgado somehow, but I had to dig really hard to find them."

Eliot scowled. "Nothing can be traced back to him directly, unless you have the means to search deeply enough."

Parker nodded. "I also found something else." She set the laptop on the bar counter and pointed at the screen.

Eliot leaned closer. One single red dot blinked on the map.

"That's..." Eliot began.

"Hardison," Parker finished, quietly.

Eliot nodded. "So, if it's on the map and blinking that means…?" He looked at Parker.

"He's alive."

"Wait," Erin spoke up around a mouthful of egg, "How do you know that?"

Parker smiled knowingly. "Hardison made some modifications to the earbuds and the bugs that he puts on all of us. He somehow connected their signal to each of our heart beats and assigned us each our own unique frequency. That way if the blinking dot disappears we know they're…." Her voice trailed off and she turned to look at Eliot. "Nate… and Sophie…"

Eliot's jaw clenched. "We don't know anything, Parker. Remember these only work if the ear buds are actually _in_ our ears. And if they found the bugs and deactivated them, well, then they won't show up, either, right?"

Parker nodded, silent, her face a shade paler than usual.

Erin tilted her head to one side and looked up at Eliot. "I don't understand… If your other two people, Nate and Sophie, if their ear bud things aren't showing up, how come, uh, Hardison's is? Wouldn't these kidnappers be wise and know to get rid of his, too?"

Eliot stood, silent. He'd thought about that, but he hadn't wanted to say anything.

"They just haven't figured it out yet," Eliot said quietly.

.~~~~~~~.

"Well, what are we going to do?" Erin looked back and forth between Parker and Eliot.

Parker's face lit up with a grin and she looked up at Eliot, who just smiled. An intense feeling of dread built up in the pit of Erin's stomach. She knew that smile. Even after five years, she still recognized its meaning.

"Let's go steal Hardison." Parker chirped, all semblance of her former fear seemingly gone, as she scampered off to the living room.

"Steal?" Erin questioned, looking up at Eliot.

"Just a term we use," Eliot replied, washing the pan in the sink.

"Well, I'm going to help you, um, _steal_ Hardison."

"I'll let you help us, Erin," he began, turning off the faucet and facing her, "On two conditions."

"'Let'?" Erin's eyes narrowed and she slid off the counter, facing him with what she thought was her most intimidating glare. "I'm helping whether you want me to or not!"

Eliot chuckled dryly, "You're cute when you do that."

"_Cute?!_" Erin fumed. "Seriously? That's what you have to say?"

"Look," Eliot stepped closer to her, his voice low and serious. All humor had left his face. "Erin, I want you to be safe. I can't just let you in on this without taking some precaution and without you knowing how god damn serious this shit is."

She stood, silent for a moment. She knew, if only a little bit, how dangerous this whole thing was. He was a coiled snake ready to strike and she knew firsthand how deadly those strikes could be.

"What conditions?" She asked finally, noting how he relaxed only slightly when she spoke.

"You must wear an earbud," he held his hand out over the counter as Parker dropped two into his open palm. "And you must, this is very important, Erin, you _must_ under any and all circumstances do exactly as I tell you."

He held an earbud out to her, but as soon as she reached for it, he closed it into his fist, fixing her with his intense gaze.

"Promise me, Erin," he spoke in earnest and she could see in his eyes how important this was. "Promise you'll do exactly what I say. Even if…" his voice trailed off.

"What, Eliot?" She asked him quietly, the knot in her stomach spreading throughout the rest of her body. "Even if _what_?"

"Even if I tell you to run and I'm not with you."

She stared at him, her green eyes large on her pale face. She was pretty sure her heart had stopped beating, knowing exactly what he meant by those words. But she still nodded.

"I promise," she murmured, "But you have to promise me two things, too, Eliot Spencer."

Eliot stiffened and stood silent.

"Promise me you'll get out of this alive and in one piece," she stepped closer to him, looking up into his eyes and gently cupping his face with her hand. "And promise me that after all this, after we've rescued your friends, that you and I will figure out what the hell we're doing here, what we are."

She could see the hesitation in his eyes, but he nodded.

"I promise," he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers briefly, "Now put this in."

She looked at the tiny plastic piece in his hand and then back up at him. "And you expect me to know how this works?"

His eyes glinted and he leaned in. She felt goosebumps rise on her skin as he brushed her hair away from her ear. It was weird, having this cold thing in her ear and she made a face at him.

"You'll get used to it after a bit," he told her, putting his own earbud in.

"Can you hear me?"

Eliot winced.

"Loud and clear!" Parker's voice came through the comm.

"You don't have to yell, Erin." Eliot explained, quietly, "It works off the vibrations in your jaw."

"Yeah, you can even whisper and we'll hear every word," Parker's voice came through again.

"Oh," Erin's face turned red, "Sorry."

Eliot kissed her. "It's okay."

"Are you two gonna be busy all day?" Parker's voice whispered in his ear.

Eliot growled something under his breath about people not knowing when to tune things out. He grabbed Erin's hand and pulled her out to the living room. Parker poked her head in from the front door. "Are we going, or what?"

Eliot growled again. "Do you have an extra set of black clothes Erin could borrow? I don't think mine would fit her."

Parker nodded. "Yeah. Duh." She pointed to a black duffle bag in the corner.

Erin let go of Eliot's hand and walked over to the corner, pulling out a black shirt and pants. Erin's hand flew to her mouth, suppressing a startled squeal, as she scrambled to her feet.

"She's got explosives in there!" She hissed, pushing past him towards the bathroom.

Parker laughed over the comm.

"She can hear you, Erin." Eliot drawled with a slight smirk. He went into his bedroom, grabbing his knife shoulder holster which hung on the headboard.

"Fuck." Erin cursed. "I forgot."

Eliot chuckled slightly and reached for his leather jacket. "Hurry up in there, Erin."

"I'm almost ready, mister."

After a moment, she stepped out into the hall, looking down at herself with a frown. "I don't do black well."

She felt his eyes on her as he looked her up and down. "Don't know what you're sayin'."

"You look okay, I guess." Parker stood in the doorway. "Come on."

Erin huffily pushed past Eliot and made her way to the door. "Let's go."

.~~~~~~~.

Shaking his head, Eliot followed the girls out of his condo, taking a look around the place before closing and locking the door behind them. He didn't want to think about the promises he'd made to Erin, because then his mind went to all the ways they could possibly be broken. In his line of work, of which she knew little, there was always a chance he would never come back. And those chances only multiplied when going up against people like Delgado and his connection to the cartel.

"What are you thinking?" He heard Erin through the comm.

"What makes you think I'm thinkin'?" He asked.

"I can tell."

"Trying to figure out a plan."

"Nate's the planner," Parker spoke up, "But we'll come up with something. Eliot's smart."

Eliot growled. "You two go down the elevator. I'll take the stairs, make sure no one is watching us."

"Be careful," Erin said.

"He's always careful," Parker stated.

Eliot shook his head as he pushed open the door which led to the stairs. "Thanks, Parker."

He met them at Erin's truck and cursed to himself when he saw that Erin was already in the driver's seat, engine running. But he chose not to argue with the two crazy, black-clad women and got into the passenger seat. He barely had time to buckle his seat belt before Erin took off and he chanced a glance in her direction. She was biting her lip again, but this time to focus. God, he wished she'd picked a better time to drop in on his crazy world…

"Turn left on this street." Parker was giving directions while typing on Hardison's laptop.

Eliot groaned inwardly. This was going to be just great. A crazy Irish girl driving a very distinctive old truck, being directed by an equally crazy woman with a penchant for giving instruction at the last possible-

A sudden veer to the left caused him to be squished against the passenger door, Parker's bony elbow jabbing him in the ribs.

With a growl, he glared at Erin.

"What?" Erin barely glanced at him, "It's Parker's fault!"

Eliot turned his steely glare on the thief, who gave a nonchalant shrug.

"We got on the right street. What's the big deal?"

Erin glared briefly at Parker, "Next time tell me _before_ I have to turn."

Parker hmphed and went back to Hardison's computer. "Turn right."

"Here?" Erin asked. The truck slowed and Eliot instinctively braced himself.

"No, the next street."

Eliot heard Erin curse under her breath and he couldn't help but smile to himself. Parker did have that effect on people. Erin turned right at the street and slowed the truck.

"Park over there," Parker waved her hand in front of Eliot's face and he looked to where she was pointing. The sign above the building said _Maggiano's Pizzeria_. Seriously?

"Parker, why are we stopping at a pizza place?" His voice sounded more irritated than he'd intended.

The thief sat silent for a moment before raising her eyes to Eliot. "This is where we…. left Lucille," she said quietly.

Eliot read the real message in her words and his jaw clenched. He reached for the door handle as the truck came to a full stop and sent a pointed glare at both women. "Don't. Move."

"But-" Parker began to protest as Eliot stepped out of the truck.

"I mean it, Parker." His glare softened slightly but remained deadly serious.

Closing the door to the truck, he looked around the street. It was early afternoon and a steady flow of traffic snaked its way through the city streets. He looked around at other pedestrians on the sidewalk. No one seemed too suspicious. No one jumped out as being part of one of the deadliest Mexican cartels. Still, he couldn't be too careful. He wanted to get the van and get out as quickly as possible.

"Where'd you leave the van, Parker?" He growled into the comm.

"Down a side alley," Parker's voice came through, "Behind the pizza place."

Eliot walked across the street, toward the back of the pizzeria. Anyone who didn't know him would see a seemingly carefree man, enjoying a relaxed afternoon stroll down the sidewalk, hands in pockets. But, to those who knew how to look, the immense tension in his shoulders would be hard to miss.

As he approached the alley Parker had mentioned, his hands were instantly out of his pockets and he slowed. Cautiously, he looked down the alley. There she was. Hardison's big metal baby on wheels… Wait. Eliot slowly walked further into the alley.

Lucille sat like a dejected child who had been put in a time out. The van was up on blocks. All four wheels gone. There was spray paint across the side and over the front windshield, something in Spanish that he didn't want to try and translate, but the word _puta_ stood out clearly.

"Uh, Parker," he spoke softly, "I found Lucille."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Dance with the Devil

_"I am machine, I never sleep,  
Until I fix what's broken.  
I am machine, a part of me  
Wishes I could just feel something."_  
-Three Days Grace, "I Am Machine"

.~~~~~~~.

"_I'm on my way._"

"No." Eliot growled, "Parker, stay in the truck."

"_But, you found her…_"

"She's, uh, not really drivable right now."

"_What?!_" Parker's exclamation screeched in his ear. He heard a door slam over the comm. And he cursed.

The thief appeared at the end of the alley in an instant and Eliot heard a soft gasp.

"Oh, poor baby!"

Parker ran up to the sad-looking vehicle.

"Parker, don't! _Parker_!" Eliot stepped in front of her, but she nimbly dodged to the side, running up to hug the van's front bumper.

"I'm so sorry. We'll get the bad guys who did this to you, I promise."

Eliot rubbed his temple. "Parker, please step away from the van. It could be loaded with explosives."

Parker's eyes narrowed as she looked at Eliot. "Well, go look." She continued to hug the van, "Don't worry, Lucille. We won't leave you here, all alone."

Eliot shook his head. There was seriously something wrong with her. He inspected the entire exterior of the van, looking underneath as well as at all the edges of each door. It seemed clean.

"Parker, please get away from the van, I'm going to open one of the doors."

Parker looked at him, then at Lucille and then took a step back.

Eliot quickly opened the back door of the van and ducked. Silence. He straightened up and peered inside the van. It was gutted. The entire interior of the van had been stripped down to the bare metal. Hardison would _not_ be happy.

Parker popped up next to him and he saw her eyes grow wide. "Someone stole all Hardison's stuff!"

"Yes, Parker, that's generally what thieves do."

Parker glared at him. "We'll have to steal it back."

"Later, Parker," he closed the van door and pulled out his phone, "We need to go rescue the others first."

"What are you doing?"

"Calling Cora to get a tow truck over here."

.~~~~~~~.

Erin sat in her truck, listening to Eliot and Parker over the comms. She'd tried to keep the thief in the truck, but the blonde had still managed to jump out and run off, despite Eliot's command to stay put.

She gripped the steering wheel tightly, glancing around the street. Everyone looked normal. But who was she kidding? She didn't know what "normal" was anymore. Eliot had clearly changed in several ways, even though there were definitely things about him that were exactly as she remembered. And his friends, this Parker girl, she was something else entirely…

_"Erin."_ She heard Eliot's voice through the comm, _"Bring the truck around."_

"On my way." She started the engine and pulled away from the curb, carefully maneuvering her way through traffic. As she drove up to the alley, she gasped when she saw the van.

"What happened?" She asked Eliot as he opened the passenger side door of the truck.

"Cartel punks." He responded shortly.

She wanted to ask him more, but she could _feel_ how tense he was, how eager he was to get away from the scene.

"Parker!" He barked in the thief's direction.

Parker came scampering from around the back of the van and jumped into the middle seat of the truck. "Let's go."

Erin heard Eliot growling under his breath as he closed the passenger door. "Drive."

"Where am I going?" Erin asked carefully. She could tell how irritated Eliot was and she didn't want to irritate him further, but she also had absolutely no clue as to where she was supposed to be going.

"We need to get a van." Parker spoke up.

Erin glanced at Eliot. He had a hand over his eyes and was leaning slightly against the window of the truck. He didn't appear to be paying any attention to what Parker had just said, but Erin knew him better than that.

"Where do you want to get a van from, Parker?" Erin asked the thief.

Parker grinned. "Ooooh, a shopping mall would be nice, or maybe an airport, or-"

"Parker," Eliot interrupted her, "We have to borrow one from someplace where they won't notice it's missing before we give it back."

Erin bit back a chuckle when she saw Parker's face scrunch up in a cute frown.

"Why don't you just buy a new one?" Erin suggested. "Or, rent one from somewhere?"

She could feel Parker's glare on her, but she refused to look at the thief. Instead, she glanced over at Eliot. "Eliot?"

His gaze shifted to her from where he had been staring out the window. "Can't have a paper trail."

She blinked, surprised at that simple statement. "So you can afford to be caught on cameras stealing a car but you can't risk someone following a paper trail from purchasing one?"

"It's hard to explain." Eliot growled. "It's just easier if Parker _borrows_ one."

Erin shook her head. She couldn't believe this. Eliot was agreeing with a thief that stealing a vehicle was an okay thing to do. Maybe he _had_ changed more than she'd thought.

"You still never told me where I'm going." She said brusquely, "I don't know Boston."

She could feel Eliot's calculating eyes on her. She knew he'd caught the change in her voice, he always was very perceptive. Yet, he said nothing.

"Turn right on the next street." Parker spoke up.

Erin pulled up in front of a car rental place and watched the other two jump out of the truck. She tried to ignore the sinking feeling she had in the pit of her stomach. "W-What do you want me to do?" She asked quietly.

Eliot flashed a smile at her, a quick glimpse of that smile she'd fallen for years ago. But this time, it didn't make her feel any better. Instead, that feeling of dread that she'd been pushing away since they'd left his condo started boiling back to the surface. She knew what they were about to do, and why, but that didn't make her feel any better about it.

"You just drive down the street." Eliot's calm, low drawl broke through her thoughts and she jumped slightly when she noticed he was next to her driver's side door. "There's a supermarket a little bit down there. Park the truck there and we'll meet you in about five minutes."

She managed a smile for him, but she could tell by the way he looked at her that he saw right through it. He leaned casually against the door, his head and part of his shoulders almost inside the open window.

"Hey," his hand reached out toward her face and she bit her lip as he tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. "It'll be okay, darlin'."

She felt her lip quiver and she bit it harder to try and stop it, looking away from him. The door opened and she felt him next to her, strong arms pulling her into a hug.

"What's the matter?" He murmured in her ear.

"I just, um," she stammered, "I'm not used to people doing this sort of thing. Isn't it dangerous?" She looked up at him, searching his eyes. "I mean, it's breaking the law!"

He smiled that damn smile again, but she could see that it didn't reach his eyes. Those bright blue eyes showed her only focused concern.

"We'll be fine." His voice was steady and it calmed her only slightly, "Parker does this all the time, I'm just here to make sure it goes smoothly." His lips brushed her forehead. "Don't worry, okay?"

She nodded and gently pushed him back. "Go on. You have to help Parker, right?"

He chuckled and kissed her cheek quickly, before closing the truck door and stepping back. "See you in a few minutes, darlin'."

He smiled and she couldn't help but smile back. As much as she hated the whole situation, she knew she could trust him. Besides, he obviously did this kind of thing all the time. That thought made her a bit angry. Stealing things - or "borrowing" as Eliot had corrected Parker - was seemingly an everyday occurrence with him and this new group he was with.

She scowled at nothing in particular as she pulled out onto the main street. She'd have to have a nice little sit down chat with him once this was all over.

She did _not_ approve.

.~~~~~~~.

Eliot watched Erin drive away and his smiled faded instantly. He could see that she was upset, and with good reason, but he didn't have time to think about that right now.

"Parker, how's it coming?"

_"Almost done,"_ came the curt reply. _"Uh-oh."_

"Parker?"

_"Um, nice doggy?"_

Eliot cursed and took off at a run towards the back of the car lot. As he got closer, he heard the low growl of a dog. Well, at least it wasn't barking. Eliot took a step a closer. As if on cue, the dog, a large German shepherd mix, began barking. One loud shout of alarm after another.

"Fuck." Eliot squarely faced the animal. Really, he had to fend off a dog? "Hey!"

The dog turned and lunged at Eliot, leaping toward his chest, teeth bared.

Instinctively, Eliot raised his left arm to defend against the dog. He bit back a cry of pain as the dog's teeth sank into his forearm.

"Hurry up, Parker!" He growled through clenched teeth.

"Working on it!"

Eliot saw the thief roll out from the car she'd been hiding under, and get back to work on a dark blue van. He could hear his blood pumping in his ears. He pushed the pain out of his mind, ignoring the blood dripping from his arm as he wrestled with the dog. The damn beast was stronger than it looked. Eliot managed to pry its mouth off his arm and hold it in something similar to a hug in order to keep it restrained.

He gripped its muzzle with one hand and stared at the dog, catching its gaze with his own. The dog suddenly stopped growling, staring unblinking at Eliot. Its tail tucked between its legs and it began to whimper quietly. He narrowed his eyes, let go of the dog and at the same time growled.

"Git!"

The dog yelped and ran off as soon as it was released. Eliot stood up slowly. He couldn't believe that he'd just had a staring contest with a dog.  
The roar of the van engine got his attention and he jumped into the passenger side as Parker pulled up.

"You're bleeding."

Eliot nodded, ripping part of his shirt sleeve to wrap around the wound.

_"What?"_ Erin's voice screeched in his ear.

"I'm fine," he growled. Of course Erin picked now of all times to speak up.

He could see Parker glancing at him but the thief made no further comment.

_"...I knew it was a bad idea,"_ Erin was saying.

"Erin," he snapped, wincing when he realized how he sounded.

There was a brief moment of silence.

_"Yes, Eliot?"_ He could feel the anger, the ice, in her voice, even through the comm.

"Be ready to jump in the van when we pull up," he said, "It's a dark blue panel type van."

_"Sure."_

He knew she was pissed, he could tell by the sound of her voice. Hell, it wasn't as though he'd planned to be attacked by a dog.

"Grab the laptop and my bag, too." Parker said.

_"Of course."_

Eliot closed his eyes. The sun suddenly seemed so bright. Between that, Parker's insane driving and the dog bite, a headache was coming on fast. The van came to a sudden stop and his eyes snapped open. They were already at the parking lot where Erin was waiting. He wasn't surprised, with Parker's driving skills.

The side door opened. He set his jaw, preparing himself for the Irish wrath that only Erin could dish out.

"You're scared," Parker whispered.

Eliot looked quickly at the thief and, remembering they were on comms, shook his head. He immediately regretted the sudden movement. The pain washed over him in a wave. He wasn't scared, per se; he just didn't like people to be mad at him, especially people he cared about. The whole thing could have been avoided if he'd only been more careful and aware.

The van door slammed shut and he glanced back through the rearview mirror. Erin sat in the back, arms crossed over her chest. The angry fire burning in her eyes stood out against the darkness of the van.

The van began moving again and Eliot turned his body to see Erin more clearly.

"Hold on to something, Erin."

She didn't look at him.

He sighed, "Parker drives crazy, you should brace yourself."

The van suddenly tilted to the left, drifting through an intersection. Eliot heard Erin's surprised squeal and watched her tumble to the other side of the van.

"Dammit Parker!"

"What?" The thief kept her eyes focused on the road. "We've got to get to Hardison."

Eliot cursed under his breath and waited for the van to straighten out before unbuckling and carefully going to the back of the van. Erin sat in the corner, rubbing her elbow and glaring at him.

"You're too damn stubborn for your own good," he murmured, kneeling next to her. "Let me see."

"No." She stuck her tongue out at him.

He chuckled and gently grabbed her arm, glancing at her face. She was looking away from him.

With a sigh, he sat down across from her, resting his arm on his knee, "I think you'll be fine, Erin."

She said nothing, but as he watched her, he could see her glance at him.

"Are you okay?" She asked quietly.

He smiled and lifted his injured arm, looking at it with a shrug. "I've had worse, darlin'."

"What happened?"

"Dog."

Her eyes went wide and she moved closer to him. "You got bit by a dog and you're treating it like it's nothing!?"

He winced at her voice. "I'll be fine, Erin, I promise."

She slid next to him and carefully grabbed his arm. "Let me look at it."

With a growl he sat still while she unwrapped his arm and began inspecting the bite. He looked at the wound. It seemed fine to him. He'd even forgotten about the pain, until she'd insisted on looking at it. He clenched his teeth as her fingers gently prodded the bite marks.

"When was the last time you had a tetanus shot?" She asked.

Eliot blinked. The question caught him off guard. "Not sure."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "You should get one."

"Yeah, sure," his voice dripped sarcasm, "Once we get the rest of the team back, I'll get right on that."

She let go of his arm as if it was on fire and he could hear her breath quicken. "Really, Eliot? This could be serious! I know you're all caught up with saving your friends, but if you've contracted rabies or this gets infected, then what good are you going to be to anyone?"

He opened his mouth to respond when the van hit a bump and she was knocked off balance, falling into his lap. She tried to sit up, but he held her close with his good arm.

"I told you Parker drives crazy," he murmured in her ear.

Erin scowled at him and he smiled. "Just sit here, darlin', I promise I won't bite."

Her gasp made him laugh, his eyes glinting. "Relax, Erin."

She folded her arms over her chest in a pout, but remained seated on his lap, his arm securely holding her in place as the van jolted again.

"We're not finished with this, you damn southern charmer," she whispered.

He could see the smile in her eyes, even if it wasn't as clear on her face. "I know." He replied.

Erin leaned in and whispered in his ear, "We'll deal with this later."

"I know." He whispered back, kissing her neck. He felt her shiver and he pulled back slightly, looking her in the eye. She was smiling and he kissed her lips briefly. "Erin, you need to know once we get to where they're holding Hardison…"

Her smiled disappeared and she fixed him with a fierce stare as he continued.

"You're staying in the van."

"I am not!"

"Erin," he held her face in his hands, "Listen to me. Please."

She glared at him, or at least tried. His own stare softened as he looked at her. "Erin, I can't have you running in there with me and Parker. Someone needs to stay behind to monitor us on the computer, to keep a lookout from the outside. I can't," he paused, removing his hands and glancing away for a moment, "I can't worry about you when I have to think about rescuing someone else. I'll be distracted thinking about where you are, if you're in harm's way or not, and I won't be able to think. I won't be able to do my job properly."

She sat still, not looking him in the eyes.

"Erin."

"What, Eliot?" She snapped, her green eyes flashing anger and hurt as she looked at him. "What? Just go ahead and say that you don't even want me here, that I'm useless. That I'm just excess baggage that's weighing you down. I know you're thinking it!"

Eliot frowned, again faced with an unexpected response from her. He'd expected her to be irritated, mad even, but the pain, the hurt pride he saw in her eyes surprised him.

"Is that what you think?" He asked quietly.

She stayed silent.

"You're not useless," he told her, "And you're not weighing anyone down, especially me."

She turned her face away from him and he put a finger under her chin, making her look at him. "Erin, please, I can't… I can't lose you." His voice lowered to barely a whisper as he said the last part.

"You won't." She replied.

He sighed and rested his head back on the wall of the van. "Erin, I need you to do this for me, okay? You'll be doing something very important for mine and Parker's safety. _Please?_"

She sat silent for a moment before nodding slowly. "Fine, but you have to let me help when we go get your other two people."

His jaw clenched but he nodded. "Deal," He knew he'd hate himself for agreeing to this, but he also knew he had to keep her away from the main action at all costs.

.~~~~~~~.

Erin was not at all happy with being forced to stay behind, even though she knew she was still helping. She wanted to be there, right next to him, to help him.

"We're here." Parker announced.

Erin felt Eliot's whole body tense up and she looked at him.

"Please, Erin," he whispered.

She nodded once, managing a small smile that she didn't feel. "I'll stay here, I promise."

His lips were on hers suddenly and she barely had time to acknowledge the kiss before he pulled away. She clambered to her feet and he stood up next to her, opening the back doors of the van.

"Parker, you ready?" Eliot asked.

The thief appeared next to Erin, who squeaked in surprise.

"Of course," Parker replied.

Erin could see how serious Parker's face was. There was no sign of her usual devil-may-care grin. Erin looked at Eliot. He wasn't paying them any attention it seemed. Instead, he was looking at the building they'd parked in front of, an old warehouse with very few lights and a few old looking work trucks within the fenced in parking lot.

"Just watch this map here," Parker was telling her, pointing to the computer screen.

Erin turned her eyes from Eliot and looked at the laptop. Blueprints of the building were up on the screen and she saw four blinking red dots. Three outside, one inside. Hardison was still alive.

"These three out here," Parker explained, "Those are us." She paused and finished quietly, "That one is Hardison."

Erin nodded. "Got it. Do you need me to tell you where to go or anything?"

Parker shook her head. "I've got it all here." She tapped her forehead and smiled briefly before hopping out of the van, her black duffel bag over her shoulder.

Erin continued to look at the screen, her eyes following the hallways, trying to find the quickest route to Hardison's blinking light.

"Erin."

She looked at Eliot. He stood behind the van, arms over his chest, feet spread slightly – the same stance he'd been in when she'd first seen him that morning. Had all this really happened in one day? She slid over to the open doors and let her feet dangle over the side as she looked up at him.

"Remember, no matter what you hear, no matter what happens-"

"I know," she frowned even as she nodded, "I need to leave when you tell me to." _Even if I'm not with you…_ His promise echoed in her ears. She watched him, saw him look over at the building again and then look back at her, his blue eyes were blank. Empty glass orbs showing nothing to her. He stepped closer and smiled, but it was just as devoid of emotion as his eyes.

"You are helping on this one, Erin," he spoke softly, and quickly. "More than you realize."

She nodded. "I know. I just wish I could do more."

He leaned in and kissed her forehead. "Next time."

She looked up at him as he stood back and she frowned. "Don't you have any guns or anything? Parker has her bag of stuff, what about you?"

He smiled again, this time a cool, calculated smile that froze her heart. She'd seen that smile only once before, years ago, and she remembered the aftermath of that.

"Don't need guns, Erin."

She took a deep breath and nodded slowly. He winked at her and walked away, towards the building, towards Hardison, towards uncertainty.

.~~~~~~~.

As Eliot walked away from the van, he forced himself to not look back. He knew that if he gave himself that last glimpse of her face - worried and fearful as it was - that his resolve could be swayed. Yes, he wanted her out of harm's way, but sitting in the van, alone, with only a computer that she didn't really know how to use and comms that could be destroyed easily enough… He shook away those thoughts from his mind.

_"I'm in."_ Parker's voice whispered through the comm. _"Standard security. Nothing out of the ordinary. Took out some cameras. They probably won't notice."_

Eliot nodded. "Good. I'm coming in now."

He slid through a partially open door and found himself surrounded by darkness. As his eyes adjusted, he saw walls lined with boxes with more rows leading down the length of the warehouse. He stood still for a moment and listened. Two men further into the warehouse, a third off to his right, in front of one of the windows. Nothing out of the ordinary indeed. He sneaked along the outer row of boxes, silently approaching the man near the window. The man stood, leaning against the wall, staring out at the Boston sunset.

Eliot smiled to himself and lunged at the guard. The guard only had time for a gurgled protest, with Eliot's arm locked around his throat before he went limp. Eliot let the guard fall and continued into the warehouse. A loud clanging came from off to his left and he jumped in between two boxes.

"Really, Julio?" A thickly accented voice yelled close to Eliot. Too close.

"S-Sorry, boss." A younger sounding voice mumbled.

Eliot rolled his eyes. Dumb goons and their usual inabilities. He could hear Julio picking up whatever it was that he'd dropped. Perfect. Jumping out from between the boxes, Eliot rammed straight into Julio's boss, knocking the man back into a stack of boxes. Eliot threw three quick punches at the man's face and into his torso and then stepped back, watching as the man slid to the ground, unconscious. He picked up the man's gun, took out the clip and tossed it aside.

The unmistakable click of a gun being cocked made him freeze.

"D-Don't move." Julio's voice wavered.

Eliot turned slowly, facing the younger man. He smiled and held his hands up in surrender. "Safety's on." He said quietly.

In the split second that it took Julio to look at his weapon, Eliot was already in the man's face. His elbow made contact with Julio's ribs. Julio bent over, howling in pain as Eliot's knee hit him in the stomach. Eliot elbowed the back of Julio's neck and the younger man went down, out like a light.

Eliot looked around him, half expecting men to come running. But there was nothing. Just silence. He frowned. That silence concerned him. He took Julio's gun, tucking it into his belt before softly jogging further into the warehouse.

_"Ooomph…"_ Parker's muffled grunt came through the comm, "_Uh, Eliot?"_

Eliot stifled his feeling of dread. "What happened?"

_"There's more guards in here,"_ Parker whispered, _"They're all heavily armed."_

Eliot growled. "Be careful, just go find Hardison, I'll take care of the guards."

_"Okay, I think…"_ Parker's voice was cut off by static, followed by silence and his own heavy breathing.

"Parker? Parker!"

_"E-Eliot,"_ Erin spoke softly, "_Parker's little red dot just disappeared."_

"Fuck!" Eliot burst through a door and into a dimly lit hallway. "What about-"

_"Hardison's just disappeared too."_

Eliot cursed and continued down the hallway. He knew he should try to be more silent in his approach, but it was becoming more and more difficult to keep his anger at bay. "Where was she on the map, Erin?" He asked quietly.

_"Not too far ahead of where you are now."_ Erin replied, he could hear her voice shaking. _"Through that next door."_

He stopped in his tracks. "Erin, keep it together, okay?"

_"O-Okay."_

"I need you to stay strong, darlin', walk me through this."

_"I will, Eliot."_

He loosened the top button of his shirt and reached for one of his throwing knives. Taking a deep breath, he kicked open the door to the next room. The loud sounds of gunfire assaulted his ears and he dove behind the first shelter he could see. The giant wooden crate he was hiding behind wouldn't hold up for very long, but he'd already seen what he needed. There were eight men. _Only eight._ But all spread out and all with semi-automatic rifles and all waiting for him. Balancing his knife in his hands he leaped up, letting the blade fly into one man even as he jumped at another. The first man went down with a cry as Eliot tackled the second, knocking him out with one punch and disarming him in one fluid movement.

Eliot stayed, crouched behind another crate. _Six left._ The guns were silent. He had to cross about twenty feet of open ground to reach the next gunman. That was twenty feet where he would be exposed to six guns. They didn't know for certain that he would take that route, but nothing else seemed logical. With a curse he pulled out his second knife. It would be little cover against the bombardment of bullets, but it was all he had.

Jumping to his feet, Eliot took off at a run across the open area of the warehouse. He let loose his second blade into one of the men, who fell over with a scream, the gun still going off into the ceiling as he fell. _Five left._ Eliot was only halfway across the open space when he felt a burning in his left shoulder. He cursed and leaped into a dive, sliding across the remaining open area and coming to rest behind another stack of crates. He put his hand up to his shoulder. It came away red.

"Dammit," he muttered.

_"Eliot?"_ He could barely hear Erin's voice over the gunfire. _"Are you okay?"_

"Fine," Eliot replied, keeping the pain out of his voice. "Just be quiet for a minute. I gotta think."

She didn't respond and he let out a sigh. So far, this was not going well for him. He'd used both his knives, only taken out three men and he had already been shot. With a curse he reached for Julio's gun in his belt. At the time, he hadn't thought about why he'd grabbed it, but now he was glad he had. He didn't want to use it, not really. Then overwhelming thoughts of his team, people he cared about, in danger, maybe even dead, came to the forefront of his mind and he lost his control.

Cocking the pistol, he jumped up behind the crate, firing off three quick rounds, before ducking back down. He'd seen two more men go down, his third shot had gone wide. He cursed. He used to be better at this. There were only three men left now, but he had maybe five bullets and two of the remaining men were in very defensible positions. He didn't like his odds.

Eliot took a deep breath, the thought of jumping back up and focusing on shooting three men made his head hurt. But at least the pain in his shoulder had faded. He cursed again. He knew he'd have to step out from behind this shelter and expose himself in order to take out the three men. He stood up quickly, firing off another round at the one man he could see directly. The man fell and Eliot stepped to the side, aiming at the two men who were left. Pushing the sounds of gunfire to the back of his mind, he focused on the gun in his hand, how many rounds he had left, how much time he had to take these men out. He was vaguely aware of a red hot pain in his chest and something stabbed at his leg. It was as if everything was moving in slow motion.

Eliot's body burned, he fell down onto one knee at the same time as one of the men fell. He hadn't remembered pulling the trigger. _Only one left._ The remaining gunman cursed at his gun and fumbled to quickly reload it. Eliot's gun clicked on an empty chamber. He growled, forcing himself to stand as he performed the only move he had left. He threw the empty gun with all his might at the remaining gunman, hitting the man square in the face and knocking him down.

The sudden silence was a shock to his senses. He fell to his knees, swaying as the floor before him blurred into a bloody soup.

_"Eliot?"_ Erin's shaky voice sounded far away, as if it came from the end of a long, long tunnel.

He tried to open his mouth, tried to respond to her, but the mere movement of his jaw _hurt_.

Fuck. He was so screwed.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Battle Scars

.~~~~~~~.

_"Arms wide open, I stand alone,_  
_I'm no hero and I'm not made of stone,_  
_Right or wrong, I can hardly tell,_  
_I'm on the wrong side of heaven,_  
_And the righteous side of hell…"_  
-Five Finger Death Punch, _"Wrong Side of Heaven"_

.~~~~~~~.

The silence from Eliot's comm frightened Erin. She didn't like the fact that he wasn't responding.

"Yeah, that's fine, just, you know, don't talk at all, don't let me know if you're even _alive_!"

Still silence.

"Eliot _fucking_ Spencer you'd better be dead or I swear I'll kill you myself for scaring me like this!"

More silence.

_"Erin."_ Eliot's voice sounded strained.

Erin nearly jumped out of her skin at the sudden sound of his voice. "Eliot! Are you okay? What happened? I heard gunshots and… and then silence and… and…" She choked up, holding back the tears that filled her eyes.

_"Erin?"_

"Y-Yes?"

_"Please. Stop. Talking."_

She did as he said, staring at the computer screen in front of her as she chewed nervously on her bottom lip. She could only see one of those blinking red lights Parker had told her to watch. At least she knew Eliot was alive.

"A-Are you okay, Eliot?" She whispered, swiping at the tears that were trickling down her face.

She could hear him laugh over the comms and she started to smile until she heard that laugh turn into a wheezing cough.

"Eliot?"

Eliot coughed again, _"Well, darlin', I think I'm gonna have to break one of those promises."_

Erin stared at his red dot on the screen. Her heart stopped. She couldn't breathe.

"No."

_"Erin–"_

"No. Nonono, Eliot, I was kidding about the dying part, please."

_"Erin…"_ He spoke quietly. She could hear the raggedness in his voice.

"Yes," her response came out as a mixture of a squeak and a whisper.

_"Remember what you promised."_

His statement hit her like a knife in her heart, a jagged and rusty blade twisting mercilessly.

"Eliot, you promised, too." She knew she sounded desperate.

He coughed. _"You know there's some promises you just can't keep."_

"But-"

_"Go, Erin!"_ He coughed again, the effort of yelling, _"Go back to the bar. Talk to Cora."_

"Eliot, I can't leave you! I can see where you are on the screen, I can come help you!"

_"No, Erin,"_ his voice was a whisper, _"Please."_

Her knees went out and she sank to the floor of the van, staring at the computer screen.

"Eliot." She whimpered his name, tears pouring down her face. "I-I love you. I still love you."

There was complete silence for a moment and her crazed mind was already thinking he might be dead.

_"I know,"_ his voice came through as a breathy whisper, _"I'm sorry, darlin'."_

She smiled through her tears and nodded, before realizing that he couldn't see it. She knew deep down, she'd known for years that this could be the end for him, for _them_. She stood up slowly, reaching for the car keys that lay on the floor of the van next to the computer.

"And what the hell do you think you're doing, woman?"

Erin nearly jumped out of her skin at the sudden voice. The back doors of the van were open and a young man stood there, leaning heavily against the doors. There was blood on his face, his clothes were torn and one of his eyes was swollen and he was… _smiling?_

"W-Who are you?" She demanded, trying not to show how scared she was.

"Alec Hardison," he was still grinning even as he climbed in, closing the doors behind him. "Pleasure to meet you." He did a mock bow and nearly fell over, steadying himself on the wall of the van.

Erin blinked. This was Hardison. The hacker.

"Where's Parker?" She asked.

Hardison grunted as he half sat and half fell next to her and immediately began typing away. "She went back in for Eliot."

"But, he said to leave," Erin stared at him, confused, "Shouldn't we do what he said?"

Hardison chuckled. "Nope. We're pretty good at doing the opposite of what people ask us to do." He glanced at her, "Wipe your tears, mama, we'll get him out."

"How?"

Hardison just shook his head and continued typing. He held out his hand. "Earbud."

She took the little piece out of her ear and handed it over to him.

"Are you okay?" She asked him, "You have blood on your face."

"Oh, I'm just peachy," he replied, "No, I wasn't talking to you, Eliot." He continued typing, "Yes, she's still here. No, we're not leaving just yet."

He typed something on the computer and pressed a button on the keyboard. Erin could hear Eliot's labored breathing, and curses, coming through the computer speakers.

_"Dammit, Hardison!"_ Eliot coughed.

"You know we don't leave a man behind." Hardison told him, "Parker's coming in for you."

More curses and coughing came from Eliot. _"I told you to get out."_

"Not happening until we've got you," Hardison said, "I've got your back, man."

Erin could hear scuffling and strange voices through Eliot's comm. He grunted and she heard a thud.

_"Fine."_ Eliot growled, _"Just tell her to hurry up."_

"Her earbud's out of commission," Hardison explained, "But she should be at your location right about…."

_"God damn it, Parker!"_ Eliot's exclamation startled Erin.

Erin couldn't help but smile a little, knowing that Parker was now with Eliot. They had a chance of getting out.

"Y'all gotta hurry up now. We got cops coming in less than five minutes. Get out!"

_"Working on it."_ Even Eliot's growl sounded strained to Erin.

_"We're moving as fast as this great lump can limp,"_ Parker's voice chirped through Eliot's comm.

Erin bit her lip. Eliot had to limp? She looked at Hardison.

"Why do we have to run _before_ the cops get here? Wouldn't they help?"

Hardison laughed dryly and looked at her. "_Help?_ Yeah, they'd help us all straight to prison."

_"Hardison…_" Eliot's warning was heard clearly in his voice, even strained as it was.

"Oh, my bad, man," Hardison's voice gained a squeaky pitch, "I didn't realize you hadn't told her that you're a wanted _criminal_!" The hacker enunciated each syllable of the last word and shook his head, muttering under his breath.

Criminal? Eliot was wanted? This was just too much for her to process.

"Come on," Hardison spoke again, "Y'all gonna be caught if you don't hurry."

Erin sat still, staring blankly as Hardison kept typing. She was amazed that the man was even able to function, looking like he did. She heard Eliot's labored breathing over the comm. And she forced herself not to freak out. He would be okay. Parker was with him.

The back doors of the van suddenly opened and Erin sat in frozen silence, eyes wide at the scene before her.

The interior lights of the van illuminated Parker who was hunched over, barely able to keep Eliot even halfway upright. His arm was across the thief's shoulders and his eyes were closed. He looked so pale, almost _dead_, and Erin saw the tinge of red that soaked his clothes. It was all she could do not to scream at the sight.

"Don't just sit there!" Parker snapped at her. "He just passed out, like ten seconds ago."

Erin forced herself to move forward, reaching out to catch Eliot as Parker let him down in the back of the van. Carefully pulling Eliot further in, Erin helped to gently lean him against the side of the van. His breath was short and shallow, but at least he was still breathing…

Parker moved Eliot's legs so she could close the back doors of the van behind them. Erin felt the thief's stare and she looked up at Parker.

"It's okay, Parker," Erin managed a whisper, "I've got him."

Parker stared at her a moment longer, then nodded once, seemingly satisfied. Erin noted that the thief was covered in blood. Eliot's blood.

"Take us home, Parker," Hardison spoke softly, "We gotta go."

Parker snatched up the keys and jumped into the driver's seat. The engine sputtered to life and Erin looked over at Hardison.

"Home? We need to take him to a hospital!"

Hardison shook his head as he moved closer to her and Eliot.

"He doesn't like hospitals, plus, with his record, it ain't safe."

Erin glared at the hacker. "Really? His life is in serious danger. He's bleeding out, Hardison! He needs to go to the emergency room."

She could see the pain and worry in Hardison's eyes. She knew he was torn between the two choices.

"Parker-" he began.

"NO!"

Parker's sudden shout made Erin jump in surprise. Erin looked at her. The thief gripped the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles were white as the van accelerated.

"We have to do what he wants," Parker said, her voice breaking slightly, "He doesn't like hospitals. He can't… I _won't_ let him die in one!"

Erin could see the tears trickling down Parker's face. Erin bit her lip and looked at Hardison. The hacker had removed his shirt and was tearing it into strips.

"We at least have to try and stop the bleeding."

Erin nodded. Eliot was still non-responsive and still bleeding and Parker refused to drive them to a hospital. The reasons made sense to Erin, She remembered how Eliot used to react when they'd had to go near hospitals, but that didn't mean that she agreed with Parker's decision.

"Erin," Hardison spoke up and she looked at him, "Help me get his shirt off. We have to see the extent of the wounds."

She did as he said, helping to partially lift Eliot as they tore his shirt to pull it off. There was a bullet hole in his right side and another in his left shoulder. The sight of the gruesome, bloody holes made Erin almost vomit, but she held it down. She had to do this, had to keep herself together. For Eliot.

Gritting her teeth, she helped Hardison tie the makeshift bandages around Eliot's injuries. She held her hand on his chest, trying to keep pressure on it. That was the one that concerned her the most.

"What are we going to do?" She asked Hardison, watching as he tied a bandage around Eliot's leg.

Hardison frowned and let out a sigh. "I-I don't know."

"He still needs urgent care," Erin knew she was beginning to panic, "If we can't take him to a hospital, we still need to call a doctor or something."

Parker and Hardison remained silent and Erin was fast losing what little there was left of her composure.

"Don't you guys know any doctors?"

Hardison glanced at Parker, then looked back at Erin. He shook his head. Erin's heart raced and she forced herself to not hyperventilate.

"Dammit!" She glared at Hardison. "You are aren't very prepared not are you?"

Cursing under her breath, she pulled out her cellphone from her pocket and dialed a number.

"Who are you calling?" Hardison asked, sounding worried.

"My brother."

.~~~~~~~.

Eliot was vaguely aware that he was moving. His back and head were on some kind of cool metal. He wanted to open his eyes, wanted to tell the angry voices in his head to stop talking and just let him sleep. The darkness was welcome. He didn't have to think, didn't have to worry about anything. His subconscious barely registered the flames of pain that shot through his entire body and the fact that his whole body felt heavy.

He felt a pressure on his chest, it was making it difficult to breathe. Instinctively, he swatted at whatever was pressing on him. A surprised gasp confused him and he struggled against hands that held him down. He tried to open his eyes, they obeyed slowly. Voices, frantic and worried, sounded around him. His brain felt as though it was in a fog and he growled in annoyance, or tried.

His eyes refused to focus. Everything was a darkened, blurry mess. He was pretty sure that there were four people in front of him, but only four hands held him down. They were gentle, but unrelenting. His hitter brain was quickly switching into survival mode and he lashed out with a fist at one of the four people. He hit only air. Someone grabbed his fist, holding it with soft, strong hands. A soothing voice came from the direction of the person holding his hand, off to his right. He blinked, trying to see more clearly, trying to figure out who his captors were.

"You need to chill, man." A distinctly male voice spoke from off to his left. He recognized the voice, but it sounded far away. He attempted a reply but all that came out was a harsh cough.

"Calm down, Eliot." A female voice came through to his sluggish brain and he slowly made the connection that she was the one holding his hand. That was when he realized there were only two people, not four like his blurred vision had informed him.

"Eliot." There was that female voice again. "If you can understand me, squeeze my hand once."

He did as the voice instructed, at least he was pretty sure he did.

"Good. That's a good sign."

Something waved in front of his face, it looked like three hands. He glared at the hands. They were confusing him and making him dizzy. He growled in annoyance.

"Well, I guess that response is better than none." The female voice sounded slightly irritated, and yet relieved.

He frowned, or at least he felt himself frowning. These voices were so familiar to him and yet he couldn't place them. And he still couldn't see them. A sudden immense chill caused him to begin shivering and he realized that he wasn't wearing a shirt.

"Where's my shirt?" He growled. The effort made him cough; dry heaving that shook his whole body. There was a very distinctive coppery taste in his mouth. Shit. Now even his slow moving brain was worried. His vision was still blurred. He knew his body was going into shock and coughing up blood only made it worse.

He felt himself shaking violently and he couldn't control it, no matter how hard he tried. The hands were holding him down again and the voices were slurring together. He could feel the panic in those hands and he knew that the blackness of unconsciousness was descending upon him. The last thing his brain registered before he blacked out was the sensation of being lifted up.

.~~~~~~~.

Hardison was doing his best to hold himself together. The situation would cause any normal human being to start screaming or crying. But he wasn't exactly what you'd call _normal_. That thought made him smile to himself.

"Hardison!" Erin's shout brought the hacker back to the present. "I think he's going into shock!"

Hardison bit back a curse and forced himself to take a deep breath.

"Just try and hold him still," he instructed, "We're almost back to the office."

He glanced at Erin. In the few minutes that he'd known the woman, he already liked her. She had taken this situation head on, with only a little bit of initial coaxing by Parker, and was handling it rather well. Instead of freaking out and causing a scene, Erin had jumped right in and helped him tie off Eliot's wounds and make sure the hitter was comfortable. _Her shock and emotional breakdown will probably come later,_ Hardison thought to himself.

The van screeched to a stop and Parker was instantly at the back, doors open. "Come on, we have to get him inside."

Between the three of them, they managed to get Eliot out of the van. Erin took one side of Eliot and Hardison the other, while Parker gathered up all their gear.

"Uh, Parker," Hardison looked around, already breathing heavily under the weight of Eliot's unconscious body.

"What?"

"Why aren't we at the office?" Hardison looked over at the thief.

Parker's face was serious as she led the way to the side door of the building. Her eyes were glistening and the hacker saw her swipe her sleeve at unshed tears. "If something… happens, I want him to be somewhere he likes." She offered quietly.

The corner of Hardison's mouth twitched up in a partial smile. He understood. While they hoped for the best, they had to plan for the worst. This was Parker's way of honoring what their unconscious and dying friend would want, that and not taking him to a hospital.

"Let's hurry up." Erin grunted from the other side of Eliot.

Hardison picked up the pace and they went through the door and straight into the elevator. The odd music on the speakers in the elevator made their ride to the seventh floor feel so much longer than it probably was. It was all Hardison could do to not drop Eliot and hack into the damn electrical grid.

The door opened with a happy "ding" and Hardison glared at it. He was pretty sure it was mocking him. Parker immediately dashed out of the elevator and down the hall. With a great bit of effort Hardison and Erin managed to get Eliot into the hallway and were halfway down it when he heard a low voice in front of them.

"Need some help there?"

Hardison's head snapped up and he came face to face with a dark haired, young man. The man stood leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, a black duffel bag over his shoulder. The man reminded him of Eliot, Hardison noticed. The casual demeanor of the stranger shifted immediately as they approached. He pushed away from the wall, his eyes wide with – Hardison was surprised to realize – concern, as he rushed towards them.

"Holy shit! Erin, you didn't tell me how bad off he was!"

Hardison looked at Erin. The woman had tears now pouring down her face, but she still managed to stand, holding up half of Eliot's weight.

"You know this guy?"

"My brother." Erin responded in a whisper.

Erin's brother jumped in, taking Erin's place at Eliot's side and turning to Hardison.

"Hurry up. Get him inside."

Hardison couldn't even sputter a response as he focused on getting Eliot into the hitter's condo. Parker stood off to the side as they entered and Hardison could see the confusion in the thief's eyes. He half shrugged one shoulder silently mouthing "I got no idea" in her direction. Erin's brother helped Hardison to lay Eliot gently on his bed, which the hacker noticed was covered in a layer of plastic underneath a layer of clean sheets. Parker had been quick in her actions and her thoughts, as she always was.

Once they had Eliot situated on the bed, Hardison looked at Erin's brother, who was washing his hands in the adjoining bathroom.

"Now, who the hell are you?" He demanded.

Erin's brother smiled briefly. "Shelley Summers," he dried his hands on a fresh towel. "I'd shake your hand, but I'm trying to get as sanitized as possible before I get started."

Hardison blinked mouth agape as his brain processed what this _Shelley_ had just said. "Y-You're going to… on _Eliot?_"

Shelley nodded, grabbing a handful of towels from the bathroom. "That's why Erin called. She said you needed a doctor and I was the closest thing she could think of." He pushed past Hardison and approached the bed. "Are you going to wash up? I'll need an assistant."

Hardison could feel the blood rushing from his face and he shook his head quickly. "I, uh, Parker can help." He said quickly as he dashed into the bathroom. After emptying the contents of his stomach – including yesterday's pizza – Hardison cleaned himself up. He stood, leaning heavily on the doorframe in between the bedroom and bathroom. His body felt suddenly exhausted and every muscle was sore.

"Hardison?"

Parker's quiet voice got his attention. He looked at her and managed a small smile in answer to her concerned expression.

"I'll be fine, mama," he assured her, "I just gotta rest now. You and Erin can handle this. Right?"

He saw Parker's hesitation and he stepped up closer to her, pulling her into a tight hug. "For Eliot." He whispered in her ear, kissing her cheek.

He felt her smile and nod. "For Eliot." She whispered.

He smiled at her and watched her step next to Shelley who was setting up a long line of metal medical tools on a makeshift operating tray. Hardison felt his stomach lurch again and he quickly left the room. He couldn't stand the sight of blood and he wasn't feeling so well himself.

"Are you alright, Hardison?" Erin spoke from the kitchen as he walked into Eliot's living room.

He nodded. "Yeah, I just, had a long couple of days." He sank into the couch with a sigh and closed his eyes. "I'll be fine, you go help with Eliot."

As much as Hardison knew he should be helping and probably not falling asleep just yet, his body was just so damned tired and besides, a little nap never hurt anybody.

.~~~~~~~.

Erin watched Hardison as he collapsed on Eliot's couch. He suddenly looked so young to her and she frowned, chewing on her bottom lip. This whole day had been emotionally draining on everyone. She knew Hardison and Parker were Eliot's coworkers of sorts, but it was obvious that they both cared deeply for him and were concerned for his well being. She poured two cups of coffee and carried them into the bedroom.

As she entered Eliot's room, she stopped cold, nearly dropping both cups at the scene before her. Shelley's hands were covered in blood, there was red everywhere. He barely glanced up when she entered the room. His face was tense and serious – she had seen that emotionless look once before. His eyes were blank, even as he smiled at her.

"H-How's it going?" She managed to whisper.

"Slow." Shelley replied, turning back to Eliot. "He's lost quite a bit of blood, but the good news is that two of the bullets were through and through."

Erin's breath caught in her throat and she was barely aware that she was squeezing the coffee cups so tightly her fingers hurt. She quickly set both cups on Eliot's dresser.

"Two?" She asked, afraid to hear what the bad news was.

"The third one's a bit tricky," Shelley replied quietly, "But I'll take care of him." He looked up at Erin and smiled, this time she could see the warmth in his eyes. "Don't worry, sis, he's in good hands."

She managed a smile in return. "I trust you, Shell." And she did.

She knew he was capable and she knew that if he thought he couldn't handle it, he would make that call. She watched closely as he gently worked on Eliot's wounds. Eliot looked so pale, his chest rising and falling in quick shallow breaths. She hated how fragile he looked, how helpless. This was a frail shadow of the strong soldier and knew, but she also knew he was a survivor. With her brother's medical knowledge she knew Eliot would have a much higher chance of pulling through this. She also knew that she couldn't let her brain think of any other possibilities or she would go crazy.

Erin heard a sniffling in the corner and looked over. Parker sat, back to the wall, knees clutched tightly to her chest and eyes wide as she watched them.

"Parker," Erin approached the thief, "It'll be okay. Shelley knows what he's doing. He's known Eliot for a long time."

Parker's eyes stared blankly at her and Erin could see the worry and fear hiding there.

"If you trust him and he knows Eliot, then I trust him, too." Parker stated matter-of-factly.

Erin smiled. That was the most normal reaction she'd gotten from Parker all day.

"You can go sit in the other room," Erin told her, "I'll help Shell."

Parker shook her head, angrily swiping at the tears that trekked down her face. "No. I have to be here. I can't leave Eliot."

Erin sighed. "Parker, you can't do anything for him right now." She paused, thinking for a moment. "Maybe you should check on Hardison. He's had a rough time, too, and I know you want to make sure he's okay."

Parker stared at her for a moment and then nodded, jumping to her feet so quickly it startled Erin. Parker looked at Eliot then back at Erin.

"If anything happens…" Parker fixed Erin with a deadly glare.

"I'll tell you immediately." Erin assured her, taking one of the coffee cups and pressing it into Parker's hands. "Take this and go look after Hardison."

Erin saw the flicker of a grateful smile flash across Parker's face briefly before the thief left the room.

"Erin." Shelley spoke just loud enough for her to hear.

She looked at him.

"I need your help over here."

She nodded. Her whole body suddenly felt numb, like she was running on some kind of auto pilot. As she stood next to Shelley while he diligently operated on Eliot, she realized that these were the two most important people in her life; her brother and the man she loved.

She wished they could have had this reunion under better circumstances.

Erin helped Shelley as her brother worked on Eliot's wounds, handing Shelley tools and clean towels and holding Eliot still when he started thrashing in his unconsciousness. It felt like years to her before Shelley finally stood up and let out a long, tired sigh.

"I've done all I can, Erin," he told her, stepping into the bathroom to clean up, "He needs an IV and blood as well. I didn't exactly pack all that."

Erin nodded, her eyes not moving from Eliot.

"Erin?"

She looked at Shelley through the tears that filled her eyes. It was all suddenly too much. The stress, worry and confused emotions whirling within her couldn't be held back any longer. She felt her knees give out and strong hands caught her as she began to fall.

"Hey, hey, sis," Shelley pulled her into a hug. Her whole body was shaking racked with sobs as her emotions overwhelmed her. She could feel her brother's arms around her, holding her tightly as she cried. After a few minutes, her sobs subsided and she began to hiccup, still sniffling against Shelley's chest.

"It'll be okay, Erin," Shelley murmured, "We'll get through this, I promise."

She pulled away from him slightly and looked up at him, tears still pouring down her face.

"H-How can you s-say that?" She stammered, "He's dying and I can't do anything but watch it happen."

Shelley held her at arm's length and shook his head. "Erin, Eliot will be fine. Just trust me, okay? He's not dying, not if I have anything to say about it."

Erin stared at him for a moment as her brain slowly pieced something together. "You just called him Eliot."

Shelley glanced at the bed and then looked back at her. "Now is not the time. That's a conversation you and he need to have once he wakes up." He kissed her forehead and turned her toward the bathroom. "Wash up and try to relax a little."

Relax? Like she could do that with Eliot in the state he was in. But she did as Shelley instructed and stepped into the bathroom. The sink had a tinge of pink and the towel lying on the counter was stained with blood. She tried to hold back the urge to vomit, but she just couldn't. She barely made it to the toilet in time.

"Oh, Erin." Shelley's soothing voice was immediately next to her, his hand holding her hair back. "I'm so sorry, sis."

Erin sat back, leaning against the tub as she caught her breath, tears pouring down her face again.

"I-I can't do this, Shell, I just can't."

He crouched next to her, handing her a clean towel.

"He'll be okay, Erin. Believe me, he's survived worse."

She frowned as she wiped her mouth with the towel. "What do you mean?"

He shook his head. "I can't say, it's classified."

She just stared at him. Of course it was classified.

He smiled at her as he stood up. "I've gotta run and get some supplies. Are you okay here?"

She nodded, standing up slowly. "Yes. Go get what you need. I'll stay here and monitor Eliot."

Shelley kissed her forehead. "Call me if anything happens or if you need anything, okay?"

"I will."

She watched him as he began to walk away. "Shell?"

He looked back. "What is it?"

"Be careful please," she said, "With everything that's happened, you should be watchful."

"I always am, sis."


	7. Chapter 7

Quick Author's Note: So sorry this took so long. This is my longest chapter yet and my most irritating. I apologize if this chapter is a little out of canon for Eliot, but it just had to happen. Enjoy! ;)

* * *

Chapter 7: Shadows and Regrets

.~~~~~~~.

_"I, I can be your painkiller, killer, killer,_  
_You'll love me till it's all over,_  
_'Cause I'm the shoulder you cry on,_  
_The dose that you die on,_  
_I, I can be your painkiller, killer, killer…"_

Three Days Grace, "_Painkiller_"

.~~~~~~~.

Erin still felt numb, but different than before. Instead of a numbness to the reality of the events around her, now it was a numbness to the pain, to the emotion that swelled within her. She felt as though she might explode after all that had happened. She stood, alone, shivering in the bathroom. Eliot's bathroom, in Eliot's condo. With Eliot unconscious in the next room.

Sniffing away more tears, she glanced at herself in the mirror. She looked horrible. Eyes all red and puffy, hands still covered in blood. She felt so tired, so worn out and cold. She eyed the shower. It looked really inviting right about now.

Washing her hands off in the sink, she turned on the shower faucet, adjusting the temperature. She cursed when she remembered that her extra clothes were in her bag, which was in her truck, which was still parked at the supermarket where they'd left it. With a scowl, she walked over to Eliot's dresser. She searched through the drawers, pulling out a large grey t-shirt and a pair of sweat pants. She glanced at him, lying prone there on the bed, and she felt just a little bit guilty for rummaging through his clothes. But she reasoned that he would have offered them anyway.

Sighing, she approached the bed, looking down at Eliot. She gently brushed her fingers down his cheek, tucking back a stray piece of hair. His skin felt hot to the touch, beads of sweat on his forehead. She hoped that Shelley would be back soon because she didn't know what to do.

Erin gently pressed her lips to Eliot's forehead.

"We'll figure this out, Eliot," she whispered, "I promise."

Turning on her heel, she went back into the bathroom, she would just take a quick shower and be right back at his side. No big deal. She softly closed the bathroom door behind her, undressing and stepping into the stream of water. Closing her eyes, Erin let the water flood over her. She leaned against the wall, tasting the tears which mixed with the water trickling down her face. Her body shook in silent sobs and she hugged herself, but neither that nor the warm water settled her shivering. She turned the water warmer, so hot now it burned her skin when she stood under it for longer than a few seconds. At least she knew she could still feel something.

Erin washed herself quickly, standing in the steamy warmth for a few long moments before turning the water off and reaching for a towel. Wrapped in the soft, fluffy material, she stepped out into the bathroom, glancing at the mirror, covered in a layer of fog. This time she was glad she couldn't see herself. She didn't want to be reminded of how tired, how worn she looked. And she certainly didn't want to see how red her eyes were from crying. She dried off quickly, pulling Eliot's borrowed clothes on. As she dressed, she began to shiver again and she was pretty sure it was her body finally reacting to the shock and nervousness of the day.

She let out a long sigh and opened the door to the bedroom, her body taking on a new round of shaking with the gust of cooler air. Clutching her arms to herself, she walked up to the bed. Eliot lay still, unmoving except for the rising and falling of his chest with now even breaths. She could feel her lips twitching up into a small smile and she sat on the bed next to him. It wasn't until then that she noticed there were no bloody sheets, no plastic, no pile of bloody towels. Frowning, she realized that Shelley must have cleaned up everything before he left.

Erin sat, silent, watching Eliot breathe. It was a lifeline of sorts for her rampant emotions. As long as she knew he was breathing, she would remain just a little more sane. She reached for a blanket which lay on the chair next to the bed, stretching it over Eliot's body and most of herself. His body radiated warmth and she found herself instinctively shifting closer to him on the bed. Her eyelids were beginning to grow heavy and she rested one hand on his arm as her eyes fluttered closed. It was so late and it had been such a long day. Shelley would be back soon and if Eliot moved she would be instantly awake.

.~~~~~~~.

_Pain_.

A searing white-hot pain burned in Eliot's lungs, piercing into his subconscious and pulling him up from the dark depths of unconsciousness. His eyes snapped open as his body lurched in a fit of heaving coughs. The dry hacking hurt his throat immensely, but he was acutely aware of the fact that he didn't taste blood. That was good at least. Feeling a warmth next to him, he slowly turned his head, even though every muscle hurt. He smiled slightly when he saw her. Peaceful and innocent while she slept.

Opening his mouth to say something, he coughed instead. He saw her eyes open, saw the confusion and a split second later, concern.

"Eliot." Erin's voice was a panicked whisper as she sat up next to him. "Don't move."

He glared at her and struggled to sit up, but her hands gently held him down. He gave in and lay still. What was wrong with him?

"You've been shot," she explained, standing up and hovering over him. "We barely got you care in time."

Now he was confused. He knew he was in a bed - _his_ bed - in his condo, but he'd had emergency care?

"Why not the hospital?" He managed to whisper. His throat felt dry and unused.

She chewed on her bottom lip. "Parker refused." She said quietly.

He smiled, closing his eyes. "Of course she did."

"Eliot."

He opened his eyes again. It took him a moment to refocus on her.

"I… I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't made it."

He stared at her and then slowly smiled. "Well, I did, thanks to you. That's all that matters." His body shook with harsh coughs and he felt her hands helping him to sit up slightly.

"Just try and breathe," she told him, "I'll go get you some water."

He nodded and managed to catch his breath as he watched her leave the room. Once she was gone, he took stock of his injuries. Three bullet wounds, two of which were non-threatening. It was the chest wound that worried him. With the other two, he could still do his job, albeit more slowly, but the hole in his chest would prevent him from moving much past a sitting position for very long, let alone actually being able to fight at all.

Frowning, he looked around him. He knew no one else was in the room, he'd noticed that as soon as he'd opened his eyes. And nothing else seemed to be out of place. Except that black bag against the wall. From what he could see, it held medical supplies. He was still frowning when Erin came back into the room.

"What's the matter?" She asked, carefully handing him a glass of water.

He smiled at her, "Nothing, darlin'."

She scowled at him, "I know you're lying."

"What happened, Erin?" He asked, sipping on the water.

She sat on the edge of the bed, facing away from him. "We got Hardison. Then Parker went back in for you." She paused and looked at him, "It was bad, Eliot. There was blood everywhere. Hardison had to tear his shirt up to stop the bleeding. I wanted to get you to the hospital, but Parker wouldn't. She said - " her voice broke, "She said she wouldn't let you die in one."

He winced at her words. It had really been _that_ close. He reached out, taking her hand in his.

"Thank you, Erin."

She managed a smile and squeezed his hand gently. "You'd do the same for me."

He smiled back.

"I meant what I said back there," Erin whispered, "I still love you, Eliot."

He blinked but said nothing. He honestly didn't know how to respond. He'd loved her too, back then, and seeing her now brought some of those feelings back. But with the things he'd done since then… the violence would come back to bite him sooner or later. He guessed sooner at this rate. He knew he couldn't put her in the middle of that. He couldn't - _wouldn't_ \- allow her to worry every day that he might not come home.

As he sat there, watching a single tear trickle down Erin's face, he cursed himself and fate's timing. She shouldn't be crying. She should be back home, working at whatever job she had now with a husband and kids, like she'd always said she'd wanted. He couldn't give that to her. He could never give her a stable _safe_ life. That realization burned a pain in his heart worse than any bullet ever could.

He knew, oh God how he knew, how damn stubborn Erin was. If he told her all this, if he took that chance and poured his out his feelings to her, he knew she'd insist on trying anyway, on "making it work." And that was the worst part. Because he couldn't say no. He'd allow it to happen and that would be the beginning of the end. It was only a matter of time before she would be hurt, one way or another, and it would all be on him. He never could resist those soulful emerald eyes and that damned Irish smile.

"Am I interrupting something?"

Eliot snapped to the present, a scowl instantly on his face because he hadn't noticed anyone come into the room.

"_Shelley?!_" He coughed in surprise, throwing a glare in Erin's direction. "What the hell, man?"

Shelley chuckled, setting down a black bag on the end of the bed. "That's the thanks I get? No 'hey, man you saved my life _again_, I owe you one.'?"

"Dammit, Erin!" Eliot cursed.

"Hey, her phone call saved your ass, Eliot!" Shelley snapped defensively. "You'd have bled out in your own damn bed if I hadn't been here."

Eliot winced. He knew that Shelley was right and, as much as he hated to admit it, he was glad that Erin had called in her brother.

"Sorry, Shell." Eliot whispered.

"What's that?" Shelley put his hand up to his ear, a small smile curving his mouth. "Is Eliot Spencer actually apologizing for something?"

Eliot glared at him. "Don't push your luck."

Shelley winked as he stepped up closer to the bed. He began pulling various medical implements out of the bag he was carrying.

Eliot looked at Erin, still sitting next to him on the bed. "Erin, can you give us a few minutes?"

Erin stared at him for a moment and he could see the questions in her eyes. He knew he'd have to answer them sooner or later. She nodded slowly, leaning in and pressing her lips to his forehead briefly before leaving the room.

Eliot let out a long sigh and turned his attention to Shelley, watching as the other man closed the door. "Thanks, man, really."

Shelley waved him off. "Don't worry about it. You saved my ass more times than I care to remember." He held up a needle and smiled at Eliot. "Now hold still."

Tensing, Eliot focused on Shelley's steady hands, as his friend prepped what looked like a makeshift IV of sorts.

"The hell are you doing?" He growled.

"Erin's got some questions, Eliot." Shelley stated, ignoring Eliot's own question.

Eliot just nodded, biting back a growl as the needle slid into his vein.

"Are you going to do something about that?" Shelley asked.

Eliot could see his friend glance at him. "Yeah," he said quietly, "Just not sure how."

Shelley shook his head. "You should know her well enough by now, Eliot. Straight up honesty is best with Erin."

"That's what worries me." Eliot responded, "You know better than I do how fucking stubborn she is. No matter what I say, how blunt I may be, she'll manage to talk me into doing what she wants."

A short bark of a laugh escaped Shelley and he smiled widely at Eliot, looking at him with an almost apologetic expression. "That's 'cause you care about her. You've always had a soft spot for my kid sister, Eliot, even before y'all started dating."

"That's the problem," Eliot said with a sigh. "I don't want her to be hurt in any way, and right now all my options are shit. I don't know which option would hurt her least." He looked up at Shelley and saw the other man staring at him.

"You still love her." It was a statement.

Eliot could feel Shelley's gaze boring into him. "Dammit, Shelley!"

Shelley smiled and shook his head, digging into his bag again. "You just need to be frank with her, Eliot. Tell her the truth," he looked Eliot directly in the eye, "_All_ of it. She already caught me calling you Eliot like it was second nature, instead of Jackson."

"You know what I've done, Shell," Eliot spoke in a whisper, "A lot of it, anyway. She can't be in the middle of the repercussions of that."

Shelley stopped his actions and looked at Eliot. "She deserves to know it all, Eliot. She's my baby sister, and I love her, but you can't hit your way out of this one and I can't help you, either. If she still wants you after you two have your little talk, then that's a situation you will have to deal with."

Eliot watched as Shelley grabbed a small cooler from the duffle bag. His eyes narrowed when he saw the bag of red liquid Shelley pulled out of it.

"What's that?" Eliot demanded.

"You lost a lot of blood, Eliot."

Eliot shook his head, trying to pull away and realizing that his arm was already in Shelley's iron grasp.

"You know you need this," Shelley stated, "Now hold still."

Eliot clenched his jaw, glaring at Shelley as the other man jabbed another needle into him. He knew his friend was right, again, but that didn't mean he had to like it. He didn't even want to know where Shelley had gotten the blood from.

"That should work for now." Shelley took a step back. "You have to rest, though."

Grunting with exertion, Eliot tried to sit up straight. A strong held held him still.

"I mean it, Eliot." Shelley shook his head at him.

"Can't." Eliot growled. "I got friends to rescue."

Shelley sighed and walked into the bathroom, washing his hands. He turned toward Eliot, drying his hands on a towel as he watched the hitter. "I understand, Eliot, I really do, but you'll be absolutely no good to anyone if you try to get up and move around, let alone fight."

Eliot sat still, silently sulking for a moment. "How long?" He whispered.

"What?" Shelley approached the bed.

"How long do I have to sit here?"

"Five days at a minimum."

Eliot cursed under his breath. "I can't do that, Shell, you know I can't."

"Alright, fine." Shelley stashed the black bag with the other one, glancing at Eliot. "How about two days?"

Narrowing his eyes at Shelley, Eliot shook his head. "Nope."

Shelley chuckled. "Two days, Eliot. I'll tie you down myself if that's what it takes."

"It's already been two fucking days, Shell!" Eliot could feel his chest burning as his voice rose. "Today is wasted. I can't wait any longer. _They_ can't wait."

"Doctor's orders," Shelley replied, his voice hard and serious, "Your other two friends can help out, can't they?"

Eliot nodded. "Yeah, but-"

Shelley shook his head, a small smirk crossing his face. "Nope."

"Dammit, Shell!"

Shelley laughed and turned toward the door. "I'll send Erin in to check on you." He winked and left the room.

Eliot cursed colorfully at the closed door and sank back against the pillows. Shelley was right, he knew that, but he couldn't just sit still while Nate and Sophie were God knows where. He had to do something. A light knock sounded on his door and he forced a smile on his face.

"Come in."

.~~~~~~~.

Erin opened the bedroom door, smiling slightly at Eliot as she entered and closed the door behind her.

"How are you feeling?" She asked quietly.

Eliot shrugged his good shoulder and she could see him wince. That was an answer itself. That and his pale face and all around worn out look.

"Thought so," she murmured, sitting at the foot of the bed. "Shelley said you don't want to rest. You really ought to, you know."

She could see the irritation in his eyes even as he nodded.

"I know," he replied, "I just can't. Not until-"

"Nate and Sophie are safe," she interrupted, nodding. "I get that, Eliot. But you need to rest, you need to get better and over-exerting yourself won't allow that healing process to happen, at least not in the way it needs to."

He just stared at her and she could see a mixture of irritation and relief in his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Erin," he whispered.

She frowned. He never apologized and she'd already heard him say that word several times since she'd come looking for him at the bar. "For what, Eliot?" She asked.

He let out a long sigh and she could _feel_ the tension ease from his body, even from where she sat.

"Lying. Hiding. Leaving. Ignoring. Hurting," his eyes turned toward her as if to say 'do I really have to continue?' and she could see the pain and sorrow in those blue depths.

"It's not your fault," the reply came out before she had time to think about it and she winced inwardly when she saw that old anger rising in his eyes.

Pity. He hated pity. She remembered that. But she also distinctly remembered that she'd never pitied him, not back then and certainly not now. She never went that far with his damaged state of mind. No, she didn't pity him at all. She understood. Not everything, but a hell of a lot more than she'd ever let on.

Eliot had always been a protector, even before he was 'Eliot', back when he was still the young Jackson Walker that she remembered. Looking at him now she wondered if there was still much of that old Jackson inside this new Eliot, if it was only a little bit or if there was more that he had just pushed back into memories.

"I-I'm sorry, Eliot," she said after a moment of silence. "I know how that must have sounded to you."

His eyes changed again, that anger subsiding and now understanding took its place. Understanding and a brief flicker of… Hope? Love? Gratitude? She'd go with that last one because the first two made her mind go down a series of trails she didn't want to travel on right now. The pain was still there, alongside the understanding and gratitude. She had a feeling that that pain wouldn't be going away anytime soon and it made her heart hurt. She loved him still, even after everything, even after he'd left her in the middle of the night five years ago, even after he nearly died. That love would never go away, regardless of what happened.

She opened her mouth to speak, to say something to break this slightly more than uncomfortable silence and as her voice formed the first word, she saw Eliot's lips moving.

"I've missed you, Erin," he was saying, so quietly she was surprised she'd even heard him. She detected a slight quiver in his voice. "I meant to write, call, something, but it just never felt like the right time. And I thought you'd never want to see or talk to me again, not after how I left you."

Erin smiled at him. "There's never a right time, Eliot. And for the record, I knew you'd leave. Not exactly the way you did, but I knew it would be something close to that." She reached for his hand and interlaced her fingers with his. His hand was rough with callouses and strong, yet still somehow surprisingly gentle. "Don't apologize anymore. Don't feel bad. Don't feel like you've let me or Shell down, or abandoned us or something." She smiled again, "We both love you, always have in some way or another, and that's never going to change, no matter what. Even if you're damn stubborn and nearly manage to get yourself killed."

He winced as a chuckle burst from his throat. She slid closer to him on the bed and reached a hand toward his face, her fingertips dancing along his skin. She saw his eyes close, could feel his breath quicken and the hand in hers tightened its grip ever so slightly.

"Eliot."

Blue eyes snapped open. She leaned closer.

"I love you, Eliot Spencer," she murmured into his ear, "And all the baggage that comes with you."

She sat back, but still close. "I know there are a lot of things you haven't told me, but my questions can wait until you're ready to give answers."

Eliot blinked, a clear sign to any who knew him that he'd just been presented with something he hadn't expected. He cleared his throat.

"Not just yet, Erin," he said, "Give me a couple hours, I gotta rest a little bit more."

There was an unspoken 'I gotta get my shit together before I can think about all that emotional crap' in his words that made Erin smile to herself. She moved to stand up but his hand in hers pulled her back.

"Stay," he whispered, an earnest plea in that single word.

She smiled and moved even closer to him, leaning in and pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I'm not going anywhere, cowboy."

.~~~~~~~.

Eliot's heart rate was currently much much faster than he ever liked it to be and he knew the exact reason why. It had always been Erin. Aimee had been great while it lasted, but she had nothing on Erin. The things that girl - that _woman_ \- did to his emotions with even just one look…

He smiled to himself and pulled her closer to him, not caring that her elbow just hit him in the gut.

"C'mere," he murmured, reaching his other hand up to the back of her neck, gently pulling her face closer to his. Their lips met and he felt a sigh escape him, whether it was of longing or exhaustion he wasn't quite sure. She shifted next to him, turning so that she was facing him better, so that this much needed contact would not be broken. The kiss deepened, the heat between them rising and he heard her gasp as he pulled away roughly.

"I-I can't," his breath was coming in heaving gasps. "Can't, Erin, not now." He wanted to, oh God how he wanted to do all sorts of things with her right at this moment, but he knew he couldn't - shouldn't - put his body through it. He just needed to hold her and take a nap. Yeah, a nap would work. Then he could deal with the emotional debris that was the aftermath of Hurricane Erin.

She nestled against his side, one hand resting on his chest, her head on his shoulder. Just like they used to. That thought mingled with his overall exhaustion and broke through the dam of his memories, reality turning into dreams as he drifted off.

He'd been picked on, bullied, always someone's punching bag for some reason or another. His size, his lack of a "normal" family, his inability to do X, Y or Z. He'd gotten used to taking the beatings, the teasing, and the pity. God, he hated the pity. The pity from the adults who knew the truth about his family life, from the children his so-called friends who knew only that he was small for his age and incapable of truly defending himself although he tried so hard.

That all ended during his sophomore year in highschool. That was when he got his growth spurt, when he started fighting back, when all the girls started to notice him. He still remained rather short - at least shorter than he'd liked - but his frame was starting to fill out, muscles becoming more clearly defined. He and Shelley would practice the kung fu and karate moves Shelley'd seen in the movies and on TV and that, combined with joining the football and wrestling teams - plus years of pent up aggression and pain - soon made Eliot a force to be reckoned with.

He'd had a penchant for getting into fights, especially as he got into his later teens, most of which he lost at first, but only barely. And countless trips to the principle's office, the hospital and even a handful to the police station didn't sate his appetite for violence.

It was at Shelley's suggestion that they joined up with the Army Rangers and in many ways that suggestion saved Eliot's life. He hadn't realized the effect his fights, his careless anger, had on the people around him. The girls he'd had one night stands with in high school didn't seem to care and he didn't seem to care about them. Except Aimee. Aimee had been different. Fiery and stubborn as all hell - he seemed to have a knack for finding girls like that - but she took him where he was at and took what turned into their relationship very seriously. She'd begged Eliot not to go, not to join up with the military and leave her, but he knew it was his best option. He'd loved her too much to keep putting her through all his shit. _Love_… had it really been that?

But it had been Erin who had said goodbye to them at the airport, Erin who had given them each a hug with tears in her young fifteen-year-old eyes. No one else bothered because no one else cared. It was Erin who had given Eliot a spontaneous kiss on the cheek and told them both to be careful and keep each other alive at all costs. And, besides the two of them, it was Erin who knew how often they followed her simple request.

There were countless times when the horrors and nightmares became too much for Eliot and it was Shelley who kept him together, kept him grounded in reality. There were countless times when Shelley had gotten in over his head and Eliot would catch a bullet or a blade for Shelley or have to patch Shelley up.

It had been Erin who waited for them, met them at the airport when they returned eight long years later from an undisclosed location. It had been Erin who helped them become resituated, helped them deal with the fallout of their PTSD. It had been Erin who moved in with Eliot with only the excuse that she "had to give Shell space" and besides, Eliot had a spare room. It had been Erin who stood up for him after an exceptionally difficult day caused him to be more argumentative than usual, who patched him up when he came home bloody and broken, who held him when the nightmares came, the ones he'd refused to acknowledge.

She had asked no questions, demanded no answers, expected nothing in return. She never gave him the pitying looks that the whole rest of the town seemed so damn fond of. She had his back through everything. When Aimee was too scared, when his old "friends" avoided him, Erin had been the one he could count on to always be there. She'd seen him on his worst days, at the lowest point in his life, well the lowest point before he'd met Moreau, but that was another thing entirely.

And she'd stayed.

Despite it all, she'd stayed with him for the four years he managed to force himself to deal with that shitty small town mentality he hated so damn much. The place he used to call home. At some point she'd taken up residence in his bedroom, he never could remember exactly when that had happened. She had been a constant, calming presence, something safe he could lean on. But she knew he would leave, he'd told her as much. She knew he couldn't deal with civilian life for too long, that he'd get restless and have to blow off steam in the only way he knew how.

As much as he knew she never held it against him, he never could forgive himself for how he'd left, or that he had to leave at all for that matter. He didn't want to think about how much it had probably hurt her. He frowned in his mind because he knew, even while he was asleep or remembering or whatever it was, that he needed Erin. He depended upon her more than he liked to admit.

Somewhere between the memories turning into dreams, Eliot's subconscious registered a presence. A distinctively familiar and safe presence, but a presence nonetheless. His eyes snapped open, seemingly of their own accord.

"Parker?" His voice sounded gravely.

The thief watched him for a moment, as if analyzing him, then abruptly handed him a glass of water.

"Had to check your breathing," Parker explained, "You were just lying there so still."

Eliot sipped on the water Parker had given him, noting how the thief was watching him intently.

"Well, you can see I'm breathin', Parker," he replied, smiling tiredly at her, "Thanks for checking though."

Parker smiled back and promptly turned on her heel, leaving the room in less than a second. He looked over as Erin stirred beside him.

"What'd I miss?" She slurred sleepily. Her long black hair was a mess, her emerald eyes trying to focus. The t-shirt she was wearing hung off one shoulder, too big for her small frame. How'd he not realized before that she was wearing his clothes? He smiled at her, as she looked at him.

That was when he realized he loved her. He still _fucking_ loved her. She'd waited for him with no judgement, no pity. She'd held him together when he'd been falling apart, broken into so many pieces, emotionally and physically. She was too damn stubborn to just walk away when things got tough, when he was being difficult. He fucking loved her because, as much as she disrupted everything, she was everything he'd needed at exactly the right time. And it had taken him this long to realize it.

_Fuck_.

.~~~~~~~.

"Eliot?" Erin looked at him with concern. Something was obviously bothering him.

"Yeah," he replied, giving her one of those slow smiles she remembered.

"What happened? What did I miss just now?"

"Parker just checking up on me, that's all."

She shook her head. "There's something wrong with her."

His smile widened and she could see the honest humor in his eyes. "Yeah. I know."

She thought for a moment, chewing on her lip, then spoke. "Why 'Eliot'?"

"What?" He looked at her, and she could have sworn he looked startled.

"Why did you pick 'Eliot Spencer'?" She asked.

He shifted uncomfortably next to her and she noticed the twinge of pain cross his face briefly.

"Had to change it," he replied quietly, not looking her in the eye, "Did it to protect you and Shell."

She stared, eyes wide. "To protect us? From what?"

"Everything I've done." He looked at her now and she saw pain - and was that fear? - in his eyes. "You've got no idea the kind of people I've taken down, Erin, the acts I've committed."

"With the Rangers?"

He shook his head. "No. Well, a little, maybe. Mostly after. I changed my name to protect people I cared about. Just in case something happened, in case someone decided to take revenge because of what I've done, I didn't want them to be able to trace me back to anywhere that mattered. So I became Eliot Spencer."

She looked at him thoughtfully. Of course. That's what he did, what he'd always done. Protect. The countless scars covering his body were proof of that.

"And what have you done, Eliot Spencer?"

She saw his jaw tense, his eyes flash with a momentary anger. She quickly tried to take it back, seeing how he was responding.

"You don't have to tell me the details," she quickly interjected, "Or anything at all."

He shook his head and let out a long sigh. "No, I gotta tell you. You have to know," he paused, "Think of all those suspenseful action movies you like to watch. What's the worst thing that happens in any one of them?"

A ball of fear settled in the pit of her stomach, tightening and growing heavier as his words sank in.

"You've killed people," her statement was a whisper, "…torture, too?"

His eyes snapped to hers for only a second before he looked away again.

"Innocent people, Erin," he murmured, she heard his voice break slightly, "So many innocent people. I see their faces every time I close my eyes. I-I can never be truly clean of that blood."

Erin swallowed the lump in her throat and reached toward him. He flinched away from her touch and glanced at her. He looked haunted, almost scared.

"But, you're not that person anymore, Eliot."

He just stared at her, shaking his head slowly. "Maybe not right at this moment, Erin," he offered quietly, "But at any point I could be again. I've hurt people, killed, now some of 'em deserved what they got, but a hell of a lot of 'em didn't." He paused and took a deep, slightly shaky breath, "It's always here," he tapped his chest, "Just waiting for me to lose control."

She saw him frown and look down at his hands.

"What is it?" She asked.

She'd never seen him this emotional, this raw before. Sure he'd had some of the same issues when she'd known him as Jackson, but back then he'd never admitted to anything, never talked about what those issues were. She didn't know if it was the topic of conversation getting to him or the drugs Shelley had given him, but she wasn't going to stop him from talking.

"Yesterday," he whispered, "I lost it. When Parker's comm went offline. I thought, maybe, they were both dead. I lost control, Erin."

She watched him for a moment. He shook his head again, this time as if to shake away the demons inside his skull. She knew what he meant, she'd heard the guns over the comm, she just hadn't quite pieced it together before now.

"You did what you had to, Eliot," she said softly, reaching to take his hands in hers, "Everyone got out alive, that's what matters."

He smiled only slightly for a quick moment before suddenly ripping his hands from her grasp, as if they were on fire.

"You don't understand, Erin. These hands," he looked at her, that haunted look and the pain were back. "I've killed people. People want me dead, some want me alive. These people won't hesitate to use anything and everything they can against me…"

His voice trailed off and realization struck her.

"Including me."

There was a look on his face now that she couldn't decipher as he nodded. "You, Parker, Hardison, Nate, Sophie, Shelley."

"Everyone you care about," she finished for him.

"I…" he struggled to put a sentence together, "I can't allow my past to affect the lives of you guys. Of the people I… the people I _love_." His last words were barely more than a whisper and Erin felt her stomach do a nervous flip. She knew she wouldn't be able to get him to elaborate on that statement, he'd already said far more than she'd thought possible for him.

"Eliot."

He continued to stare at his hands, seemingly not hearing her.

"Eliot, look at me, please."

He turned his head, sad and tortured eyes meeting hers. She smiled.

"I know you. I know your past, what you've done, how haunted you are," she paused and took his hands again, "I know how much you want to protect us, but maybe it's time someone helped you. Maybe we don't need as much protection as you think."

He frowned, his eyes narrowing to slits and a little of that previous anger was coming back.

"No." It was a flat, definitive response and he pulled away from her again, struggling to get up.

She knew how much pain he must be in and she reached to grab his shoulder, to keep him still. He slapped her hand away, not that hard, but enough to still sting. She instantly backed away from him, standing next to the bed and fixing him with an angry glare of her own.

"Listen to me!" Her voice rose and he stopped trying to get up, giving her his full attention, "I know you don't want anyone to get hurt, I get that, but dammit Eliot, look at yourself! You don't think we care about what happens to you, too?" She swiped angrily at the tears pouring down her face. "You want to protect the people you care about, well, you know what? Did you stop to think that _we_ want to protect _you_? That maybe we care just as much or more about you as you do for us? Seriously, this whole 'sacrifice myself to save everyone else' shit has got to fucking stop. _Now_!"

Her rant ended in a shout and she was out of breath. He just sat there, staring at her, eyes wide with what she could only guess was shocked surprise.

"Erin, I-"

"No," she shook her head, still fuming, "I don't want to hear you say you're fucking sorry anymore."

Before she gave him the chance to respond, she turned and left the room, slamming the door behind her.

.~~~~~~~.

Eliot blinked in surprise as his door slammed so hard that the glasses on his nightstand shook.

What. The. Hell.

He'd been through countless battles, been captured, tortured, shot, stabbed, any number of things, but this… This immense pain he felt inside was worse than any of his past injuries. This was why he'd worked alone. Why he never let anyone close, why he chose to walk away during the night. While this response from Erin wasn't entirely unexpected, it still hurt. More than he'd like to admit.

Growling out a curse, he ripped both the IV and the blood tube out of his hand. Shelley must have put something in the fluids he'd been given. There was no other explanation for why he'd been so damn… normal. It had to be drugs of some kind.

"You probably shouldn't do that."

He jumped and looked up.

Parker was lying on her stomach in the air vent which led into his bedroom, her chin propped up on her hands.

"Dammit, Parker," he glared at her, "Get outta my air vent."

The thief silently slid out of the small space, landing lightly on her feet and replacing the vent plate. She looked at him, her head tilted slightly to the side.

"Why are you so angry?" She asked, appearing to be honestly curious. "You made her cry. That's not nice."

Eliot rubbed his temple, wondering how long the thief had been up there. "I'm not having this conversation with you, Parker."

"You should tell her you're sorry and bring her chocolates and flowers," Parker spoke matter of factly, "That's what Sophie told me. Women like chocolates and flowers. And wine, too, but I think it's bitter." She made a face and shuddered slightly at the thought.

Eliot grimaced. He really didn't want to deal with all this emotional crap, especially not with Parker of all people.

"Will you apologize?" Parker asked, suddenly excited, "Do you want me to go find chocolates? Or flowers? Or that gross wine stuff?"

With a sigh, Eliot shook his head. "No, thanks, Parker. I'll figure something out. Just go get Hardison, would ya?"

Parker frowned at him, almost as if she were offended, then left the room.

Eliot let out a long breath. This whole situation with the team, with Erin, with everything, it was just getting to be too much. Grunting with pain, he sat up completely, pushing the blanket off himself and ignoring his screaming wounds. He couldn't sit still any longer, despite what Shelley and Erin had said, he had to _do_ something. He swung his legs over the side of his bed and was slowly standing, using his nightstand as support, when the door burst open. As he glanced up, his concentration broke and he fell back on the bed with a growl. His leg throbbed, his arm was sore, his chest burned.

"Dammit, Hardison!"

The hacker stood, halfway into the room, eyes wide as he gripped his laptop like a lifeline.

"Uh, I can come back later…"

Eliot shook his head. "Nope. Need to talk to you now."

"You're not going to make me cry, too, are you?" Hardison blurted and then winced, though a sheepish grin remained on his face. "Sorry, man."

Eliot just glared at him, choosing to ignore what he'd said. "What have you found?" He asked, knowing full well that the hacker's trigger-happy fingers couldn't - wouldn't - stay still, especially when members of their team, their family, were in danger. Hardison was also always hyped up on some kind of sugary caffeinated drink and had most likely already looked into everything that Eliot and Parker had pulled up the day before. The hacker took a spot at the foot of the bed, opening his computer and typing away.

Eliot took in his friend's appearance. A nice purple bruise stretched across one cheek and Hardison's eye was black and blue.

"Hardison, you okay? Looks like you took a beating."

The hacker smiled, shaking his head. "Just fine. You should see the other guys."

Eliot winced, knowing full well that "the other guys" were all dead, by his hands, but Hardison didn't need to know that little detail. He knew the hacker was only trying to lighten the hitter's mood, but Eliot couldn't help but feel an immense guilt for what had happened. He hadn't been there to protect his team. That was his job. That was what he was expected to do. He had failed and Hardison had ended up with a bruised face and a black eye.

"Man, what is this?" Hardison's question pulled Eliot to the present.

"What?"

"Your bed," Hardison looked at him, jumping up and down slightly on the mattress, "Is this like a tempur-pedic mattress or something? It's super comfy! I need to get me one of these."

Eliot bit back his instinctive growl of irritation and instead opted for a bored sigh. "Hardison! Did you find anything on Nate and Sophie."

Hardison shook his head. "I was able to pinpoint where we were all nabbed and followed their van, which is inferior to Lucille and completely stinks, by the way, with some traffic cameras, but right about here," he pointed at an intersection on the west side of the city, "I lost them. No cameras, nothing for my little pretties to fly after."

"You tried everything?" Eliot asked. "What about hacking a satellite? Haven't you done that before?"

Hardison stared at him, "Really? You don't get what exactly I do, do you? Not only would I need much more than just my little back up laptop here, but I would need a large antenna as well as a number of other things I'm pretty sure you've never heard of. Yeah, sure," the hacker's voice raised in pitch, "'Hardison hacks things, he can hack a satellite on command' pshhhh…" Hardison's mocking complaint turned to muttering under his breath as he typed.

"What'd you get on Delgado?" Eliot asked, decidedly ignoring Hardison's mocking tone.

"Right," the hacker turned his computer to show Eliot an image on the screen. "César Delgado, as you know already. Parker told me that y'all looked him up and I must say I'm proud of you, going all geeky and using that manual I wrote 'specially for you." He beamed at Eliot, obviously happy with himself.

The only thing that made Eliot resist the urge to punch something was the fact that his whole body was still screaming in pain. He growled between clenched teeth, narrowing his eyes at Hardison.

"Well, um," Hardison nervously cleared his throat, "Fine, we don't have to celebrate the little things, then. I did some more digging and it seems that our boy Delgado has been looking into acquiring some land."

Eliot's eyebrow shot up in question.

"Try the entire city of Boston," Hardison pressed a button and Eliot could see a city map slowly being overcome with little red dots. "He's not purchasing anything in the legal sense, per se, but he's getting it bit by bit." The hacker's voice turned serious and he looked directly at Eliot. "He's taking over the city, Eliot. And we're just a little tiny unimportant snippet for his scrapbook of mass chaos."

Eliot scowled and shook his head. "There's gotta be more to it than that. He wouldn't just kidnap all of you only to make us leave. He's not just sending a message, obviously he wants something else."

Hardison nodded and typed something into his computer, showing Eliot another image. It was Eliot's criminal records from Interpol, the FBI, and Homeland Security, among others.

"He's been reading up on you, man," the hacker said quietly, "And not just the main stuff like this. I've got little triggers planted in all the places where any of us have bounties, and he's looked into all of yours and has even contacted a handful."

Eliot stared at the computer screen, the numbers and images blurring together as his anger level rose.

"Hey, man, chill!" Hardison sounded almost panicked, "You're gonna break your own nightstand."

Eliot glanced at the small table next to him, noting the slight crack in the wood. He hadn't even realized he'd been grabbing it. _Fuck_. This was just getting worse. Not only was the leader of a nasty cartel taking over Eliot's city, but he'd been checking up on Eliot's criminal records all over the world. This was becoming a far more dangerous issue than Eliot had anticipated. He looked at Hardison.

"How much does he know?" He asked, his voice deadly quiet.

"Pretty much everything you've done as Eliot Spencer," Hardison replied, typing on his computer again, "But as far as I can tell, nothing before that."

That was something good at least. That meant Erin, Shelley and anyone else from back home would be safe. For now. The thought made him scowl again and he growled a curse under his breath. Pushing himself up with his good arm, he began another attempt to stand.

"Whoa, what are you doing?" Hardison was standing, immediately at his side, "You shouldn't get up yet. You've been shot!"

"Dammit, Hardison!" Eliot managed to get to his feet, forcing his breath to remain even and calm, "We have to figure out what the hell Delgado wants with us, with _me_. Get everyone together in the living room. We're coming up with a plan."

Hardison watched him for a moment. "You think you can just walk into the other room by yourself?"

"I've done it a hundred times before, Hardison." Eliot growled, leaning heavily against the wall. "I don't need your help."

Nodding slowly, Hardison picked up his computer from the bed and turned toward the door. "If you fall over and can't get up, I get to say 'I told you so'."

Eliot glared at Hardison's back as the hacker left the room. He let out a long sigh and slowly pushed himself off the wall, swaying for a moment as pain shot up his leg. He clenched his jaw and took a tentative step forward. His leg seemed to be working well enough. So far so good. Walking slowly, he pushed the pain to the back of his mind and forced himself to keep moving forward. By the time he reached his bedroom door, the pain was making him nauseous and he leaned against the doorframe, taking in painful, gasping breaths.

"Eliot, what the hell?"

He looked up to see Shelley in front of him.

"What part of 'rest' do you not understand?"

Eliot shook his head, immediately wishing he hadn't as a new wave of nausea rolled over him. "Gotta talk to everyone," he managed to get out.

Shelley put his arm under Eliot's to give him some support. "We can do that in your room, with you resting. In bed."

"No." Eliot growled, beginning to walk forward again. He was leaning more on Shelley than he liked, but he pretended to ignore how much his friend was helping. Shelley assisted him all the way into the living room and onto one end of the couch. As he sat down, Eliot glanced at Erin. He saw the brief look of concern cross her face, but it was quickly replaced by her infamous pissed off glare, with which he was all too familiar. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Parker approaching him. He turned his head and narrowed his eyes at the finger she had too close to his shoulder.

"Don't, Parker," he said quietly, barely able to keep his breath long enough to speak. He looked at Hardison and nodded.

"Okay, people," Hardison cleared his throat and motioned to Eliot's TV which he had his laptop plugged into. "This is César Delgado…" he went into his explanation of who Delgado was, what he was doing and a hint that he was looking into Eliot, just enough information for Shelley and Erin to be caught up to speed. Eliot watched Erin closely as he only half listened to Hardison's words. Her expression shifted from pissed off, to concerned and finally to afraid as Hardison finished talking.

"What exactly does this mean?" Erin asked, her voice a whisper.

"We're not sure, yet, Erin," Eliot spoke up in response, shifting slightly on the couch. "But I can't have you and Shelley in the middle of it."

"Bullshit!" Shelley interjected, walking around to stand in front of the TV. "That's bullshit and you know it, Eliot."

Eliot set his jaw and shook his head slowly. "No it ain't, Shell. Delgado doesn't know about you and Erin, or anyone from back then. The best place for you two is out of sight and uninvolved."

"I don't think so," Erin spoke up.

Eliot glanced at her, seeing her face serious and her eyes looking at nothing in particular. She had that look on her face that she always got when she was thinking really hard. He watched as she got up to stand next to Shelley. "He doesn't know about us, right? So, we can use that to our advantage. We can help you and be complete unknowns to him. We'll have an edge."

Eliot stared at his friends, two people he'd known for most of his life. Looking at them standing next to each other, it was hard to tell they were related. Until they smiled and those eyes lit up with that Irish charm. Shelley's mother had died when he was barely two years old and Shelley's father had married a young Japanese immigrant soon after. Then Erin had come along less than a year later. She and Shelley had quickly become inseparable and they treated each other as any other normal siblings would. He smiled to himself as he remembered how stubborn the two of them had always been, especially together.

"Eliot?" Hardison got his attention.

"Fine," Eliot nodded. "You two can help out, but behind the scenes. I don't want either of you in the middle of the action."

Erin glared at him, but looked at her brother.

Shelley slowly nodded. "Fine. I have a couple buddies I can call in to help out."

Eliot wanted to say 'no' immediately, but when he thought about it, he realized Shelley's suggestion was their wisest option. He was kind of down for the count, as much as he didn't want to admit it, and a little extra hitter power wouldn't hurt. He opened his mouth to reply, when a loud, obnoxious ringing came from the coffee table in front of them. It was Eliot's phone. The silence in the room grew heavier with each ring.

Hardison's fingers flew over his keyboard and his eyes grew wide. "It's Sophie."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Keep the Wolves Away

.~~~~~~~.

"_You caught me on the way down  
__Please hold my hand before I drown  
__Tie my hands before I burn this town  
__You caught me on the way down_."  
-Anberlin, "Down"

.~~~~~~~.

The phone rang once, echoing in the suddenly silent condo.

Eliot stared at where it sat on the coffee table. He wanted to answer it but he sat as if frozen. Then Hardison gave him a nod. In an instant, Eliot reached for the phone, opening it and immediately putting it on speaker.

"Sophie?"

_"Eliot! Thank God."_

"Sophie, where are you? Are you okay?"

There was a pause on the other end of the phone and Eliot could hear the quiver in Sophie's voice as she responded.

_"I'm fine, I don't know where I am, but I'm fine, I promise."_

The tension lifted briefly in the room around him and he glanced at Hardison. The hacker was typing away on his computer and motioned to Eliot to keep talking.

"Is Nate with you?" Eliot asked, aware that his whole body was keyed up with tension, and anger. "Can I talk to him?"

Another pause.

_"No. He's not here. I don't know where he is."_

Eliot's jaw clenched and he bit back a growl. Damn it all. He should have known someone like Delgado would keep his friends separated.

"Sophie, you're on speaker with the whole group," he looked around the room at everyone, noting the level of concern on all the faces present. "Can you tell us anything?"

_"Eliot, I don't know what's going on,"_ there was a rustling from the other end of the phone and Sophie spoke in a rush, _"There's a lot of Mexican cartel, something bad is-"_

Her voice was cut off and something was said in Spanish.

"_Eliot Spencer."_

Eliot's body stiffened at the accented male voice.

"Cesar Delgado."

_"Nice to finally speak with such a dangerous and intriguing man."_ Delgado chuckled, _"You have become quite accomplished in your career."_

"I'm not done, yet, Delgado."

Delgado laughed again. _"Oh, I'm not so sure about that, Spencer. I have a proposition for you, one that I'm sure you won't turn down."_

Out of the corner of his eye, Eliot could see Hardison shaking his head. He ignored the hacker and stood slowly, turning the phone off speaker and holding it to his ear.

"The hell do you want?" Eliot growled.

_"I want you out of my town,"_ Delgado replied, _"I am quite aware of your team and… how should I put it… how deadly they can be to the business of a man such as myself."_

"We only take down people who deserve it," Eliot said, making a pained step away from the couch. "And you're very much mistaken. This ain't your town and it never will be. We're not leavin'."

There was a brief moment of silence before Delgado spoke again.

_"Fine then. A trade. You for your two little friends."_

Eliot stopped his slow limp from the couch. This was expected and yet somehow still took him a little by surprise. He knew the rest of them wouldn't agree to this, but he also knew that this was the only option to get Sophie and Nate out of Delgado's hands. He could handle himself with Delgado and his goons. The bullet wounds and overall exhaustion pushed to the back of his mind, Eliot made a decision.

"When and where?"

_"Route 9, just west of Leicester,"_ he could feel Delgado smiling through the phone, _"Four o'clock."_

It was just after twelve now. "I'll be there."

_"No cops. No tricks. I'm looking forward to meeting you, Spencer."_

"Same here." Eliot replied. Oh yes, he was definitely looking forward to meeting Delgado and absolutely destroying the man.

The line went dead and he looked at Hardison. The hacker barely glanced up from his computer.

"Got his location."

"What did you just agree to, Eliot?" Erin asked.

Eliot looked at her, only able to meet her eyes for a brief moment. "A trade."

Parker's and Erin's eyes widened.

"Sophie and Nate."

"For?" Erin inquired.

Hardison's fingers stopped typing. "No. Uh-uh, that's just plain stupid, man."

Eliot could feel the others all watching him, four pairs of eyes monitoring his every movement. He knew he was in no condition for anything, and he knew that they all knew it as well. But, he also knew that this was their best plan. Even Nate would probably agree with him. He clenched his fist and walked slowly back toward the couch, forcing himself not to limp, to ignore the pain that shot through his leg and chest as he moved. With a sigh, he leaned against the back of the couch, looking at each of the others in turn.

"You all know this is our best option," he said quietly, "This is the Mexican cartel we're dealing with here. It's a miracle that Nate and especially Sophie are even still alive right now," he paused and let his words sink in, "I can handle this, whatever they dish out. Nate and Sophie can't. You all know that."

"Bullshit." Shelley began pacing back and forth, arms crossed over his chest.

Eliot smiled to himself. Of course Shelley could see right through his plan.

"You're in no condition to handle anything, Eliot," Shelley continued, "We all know that."

"Delgado doesn't," Eliot responded, straightening and biting back a wince as the movement stretched the bandages on his chest. "Besides, if Hardison's intel is correct, then he'll keep me alive and in one piece. He won't risk getting paid less."

Shelley nodded. "True," he looked at Eliot, "What's your plan?"

Eliot let out a long breath. "Hardison, you and Erin come with me to the drop off point, then once the exchange is made, you get out as fast as you can with Nate and Sophie. Shell and Parker, you two will go with Shell's guys to the location that Hardison found for Delgado and destroy everything that you can."

"No."

Eliot looked at Erin. She stood in front of the TV, arms crossed angrily, glaring at Eliot.

"I'm not going along with this."

"Why not?" Eliot asked, watching her closely.

"Do you not hear yourselves?" She turned her glare on Shelley also, "Both of you! You're talking about trading Eliot as if he's just some random commodity or something!" She looked back at Eliot and he could see angry tears glistening in her eyes, "You're a fucking human being and I'm not just going to hand you over to the damn Mexican cartel!"

Eliot's jaw clenched. He shifted slightly on his feet, wincing from the pain in his leg. He knew she was right, but he also knew that the only way to make his plan work was to think objectively about it.

"Erin's right, man," Hardison spoke up, "I don't like this."

"There's no other way to get Nate and Sophie out safely," Shelley said, his voice serious.

Eliot looked at Shelley, then at Hardison and sighed. "Look, I know you don't like this, frankly I don't either, but with help from Shelley's guys, this is really our best option. Besides, when we get Nate back, he'll have some ideas to make this plan work more smoothly." He looked at Shelley again, "I just need you all to agree to go along with this without the negative commentary."

He could feel Erin's glare burning a hole in him, but he refused to look at her.

"I'm in," Parker said, "Stealing from Delgado sounds fun," she smirked, "And I get to blow stuff up."

Shelley nodded. "I'm in," he paused, "Erin, too."

Eliot could hear Erin sputtering a shocked response and he bit back a chuckle. He looked at Hardison.

The hacker nodded slowly. "I don't like it, but I'll help out."

"Good, get whatever you need to be ready. We have to meet Delgado at 4 o'clock outside of town," he looked at Shelley, "Call your guys." He took a deep breath and straightened, turning slowly to go back to his room. He needed to rest just a little bit longer, needed to get into the right mindset for what he was about to do. No, he didn't like this plan, not one bit, but what he disliked more was the idea of Nate and Sophie being in Delgado's clutches for a minute longer.

When he got back to his room, he closed the door slowly and leaned back against the wall. His breath was uneven and pain shot up his leg with every movement. Shelley was right. He was in no condition for walking, let alone dealing with Delgado _and_ keeping the team safe. A hoarse growl erupted from his throat and he spun on his good leg, punching a hole in the wall as he turned.

He gasped for breath, his chest on fire from the effort. He was fucking falling apart, only halfway able to move, to do his job. His right leg was barely holding him up, his left arm was too sore to move much past his shoulder and his chest felt as though it would explode with the heaving breaths he was currently sucking in.

Leaning against the wall, he knew he wasn't fit enough to handle this situation. But, he'd been through worse and he knew there were no other options. With a curse, he pushed himself off the wall and limped to his dresser. He had to get a clean shirt on at least, not that it would help with what he was going up against.

A light knock sounded on his door and, before he could respond, it opened slowly.

"Eliot?" Erin poked her head into the room. "Can I talk to you?"

"I ain't stoppin' you," Eliot replied quietly.

She stepped into his room, closing the door behind her and leaning against it. She wouldn't meet his eyes.

"I don't want you to do this," she whispered, so quiet he could barely hear her. "You'll be hurt," she looked up at him, eyes wide with fear, "More than you already have been, and there's no guarantee that we can get you back this time."

Eliot sighed, taking a slow step toward her. "Erin, listen," he put his hand under her chin, "I know you don't like this. I'll be honest with you, it ain't gonna be easy, or clean." He brushed his thumb along her cheek and smiled, "But you know as well as I do, that I got the best shot at taking this guy down, and at getting Nate and Sophie the hell out of the way."

She shook her head. "I don't want you to die on me, when I can't do anything to help you."

"I can't promise what might or might not happen, Erin," he told her, "But you will be helping this time. You'll be with Hardison in the van and getting Nate and Sophie to safety. And you'll be helping to make a plan to get me back."

He could see the brief panic in her eyes at his first words, but then she smiled. It was a weak smile, an attempt to make him feel better, but a smile nonetheless.

"I won't die," he whispered to her, "It ain't my time, darlin'. Plus, it's a hell of a lot harder to kill Eliot Spencer than people think."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

Eliot shook his head. "I don't know what you want me to say, Erin. I can't promise you anything and I can't do anything besides what I do best. I'm a retrieval specialist. That's what I do."

Erin sighed. "Fine. What do you need me to do for this whole thing?"

"Follow directions," he said, "Whatever Hardison or Shell tell you to do, do it, no questions."

"What about you? What are you going to do?"

Eliot smiled. "Don't you worry about me. I'll do what it takes to get everyone out of this."

"Even you?"

"Even me," he kissed her, "Now I gotta get ready for all this."

"How can I help?" She asked against his lips.

He shook his head, barely breaking the kiss long enough for a quick reply, "I think you're doing just fine, darlin'."

.~~~~~~~.

Erin smiled as she continued to kiss Eliot. She knew that this was practically a suicide mission, but she pushed that thought away and instead focused on the moment - enjoying the little bit of intimacy she was going to get with the man she loved before all hell broke loose.

All too quickly the moment was over and he was pulling away, his hand gently cupping her cheek as he smiled.

"Let's get the others together and get this over with."

She nodded silently, her hand slipping into his as he opened the door. She felt the pain in his steps, the careful control he had over his injured limbs and she silently hoped that he would actually be able to get through all of this stupid plan alive.

"Hardison, are we set?" Eliot asked.

The hacker nodded from behind his computer. "Got what I need to make this work. Parker and Shelley have the address for Delgado's main warehouse. Gimme just one second…"

Erin looked around, noticing that Shelley and Parker were missing. The front door opened just then and Shelley entered with Parker.

"One of these days your driving's gonna kill someone!" Shelley was saying.

"My driving's fine," Parker objected, going to perch next to Hardison on the chair.

Erin looked at Shelley who smiled in return.

"Hey, sis. Had to go get your truck," he tossed keys at her and dropped her duffel bag on the counter. "Figured you'd want your own clothes."

"Oh, thank God!" Erin left Eliot's side to grab her bag, giving her brother a hug. "Thanks, Shell."

As she passed by Eliot, she smiled at him. "Give me just a minute and I'll be all set."

He nodded and she went quickly into the bathroom to get changed. Digging through her bag, she realized that she hadn't really packed anything that was entirely fitting for this kind of operation, so she just threw on what she had. She stepped out a moment later in jeans, boots and a plaid shirt.

"Dude," she heard Hardison talking as she rejoined the others, "I've got all I need. All of you just put those comms in and relax," the hacker looked at her, then at Eliot, "Do you two share fashion secrets or something?"

She looked at Eliot. A slow smile crept across his face and he shook his head.

"What?" She looked down at herself. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"

Hardison shook his head. "That's just Eliot's usual everyday clothing choice."

She stuck her tongue out at the hacker, then turned to Eliot. "Are we ready?"

Eliot nodded, holding out a small ear piece to her. "You still need help with this?"

Erin felt her face turn red. "Yeah."

He chuckled and carefully put the earbud into her ear, his fingers lingering on her neck for only a brief moment. She looked at him and saw the small smile playing on his face. Some unknown emotion shone in his eyes, but he offered no comment as he kissed her cheek.

"Shelley," Erin spoke up as her brother reached for the door handle, "You and Parker stay safe, okay?"

Shelley smiled. "Always. See you bunch later. Parker?" He held the door open as the thief scampered out, the rest of them following.

Eliot locked the door behind them, and Erin saw him glance at her.

"Quit thinkin' so hard," he said quietly.

She frowned. "I'm not."

_"Y'all coming or what?"_ Hardison's voice came over the comm.

Erin heard Eliot growl and she bit back a smile.

"We're coming, Hardison," she replied, "Eliot was just locking up."

The drive to the meeting point was a quiet one. Eliot had insisted that Erin ride in the passenger seat, while he sat in the back, and she couldn't help but check on him every five seconds in the rearview mirror. He sat, leaning against one wall of the van, eyes closed. He looked almost peaceful and yet she knew that he was only resting to be more prepared to do what needed to be done. She knew that he was always one hundred percent on his game, no matter how he looked. Still…

She leaned closer to Hardison and spoke in a whisper, "Do you think this plan will actually work?"

Hardison shrugged. "I mean, we've taken down lots of people before. Dangerous people. Once we get Nate, he'll have some evil genius plan to make it all work," he smiled and she could tell it was forced, "It'll be fine. It's a good plan."

She bit her lip glancing back at Eliot again.

"You guys know I can hear you, right?"

Erin cringed. She'd forgotten about the earbuds.

"Sorry, Eliot."

"It'll be fine, Erin," Eliot replied quietly, "Just trust me on this one."

.~~~~~~~.

The van slowed to a stop and Eliot opened his eyes. He'd been attempting to meditate, as much as he could in the back of a moving vehicle, and he'd gotten all the strength he'd been able to during the drive. Pushing himself upright he glanced toward the front of the van. Hardison and Erin were watching him, concern and fear showing in their eyes.

"I'm just fine," he growled. "Let's just do this."

Both nodded and exited the van, Erin opening the side door for him. As he stepped out onto his bad leg, he nearly collapsed, almost falling on Erin as she caught him.

"You don't look "just fine"," she murmured, clutching his arm to keep him steady.

He leaned forward and kissed her quickly, managing a smile. "I'll make it work, I promise."

He heard her breath catch in her throat and the concern in her eyes only deepened. "You have to keep your promise, Eliot Spencer," she whispered.

"I will," he brushed his lips across her cheek. "Do one thing for me, okay?"

"What's that?"

"When I cross that street, some shit's gonna happen that you ain't gonna like. It won't be pretty," he paused and let out a long breath, "Don't react. At all. Not one noise, you hear me?"

She nodded, brushing her eyes on her shirt sleeve. "I won't, I promise."

"_You_ have to keep _your_ promise, Erin Summers."

A short laugh escaped her, cut off by a sob and she looked away from him.

"I'll keep it, Eliot, I will."

"Erin, stay in or behind the van. I can't have this bastard know you're even here, or that you care at all about what happens, or else he won't stop until he's got you, too."

"I understand."

He put a finger under her chin, gently forcing her to look up at him. "This'll work out, darlin', don't worry."

"Incoming," Hardison poked his head around the side of the van from where he'd been diligently typing on his laptop.

Two big black SUVs approached, stopping on the other side of the road. The doors of both vehicles opened and Eliot saw Nate pulled out of the first and Sophie out of the second. He bit back a growl, forcing himself not to limp as he walked around to the other side of the van, facing the Cartel across the street. There were eight of them, four from each vehicle. But there was only one of them who had Eliot's complete attention. He was dressed nicer than the rest, balding head gleaming in the afternoon sunlight.

"They walk from this side," Delgado's voice rang out clearly, "You walk from that side. You cross in the middle, no funny business, you get to this side, they get to that one and we go our separate ways. _Bien?_"

"Yeah, I get it!" Eliot yelled in reply.

"Walk!" Delgado commanded.

Nate was pushed roughly forward and began a stumbling walk toward the middle of the street. With a curse, Eliot walked slowly from the other side to meet him. The hitter saw Sophie take a step forward to follow Nate, but she was held back, one of the Cartel goons gripping her arm. She looked at Eliot, panic on her normally stoic face.

"What is it?" Nate spoke only loud enough for Eliot to hear as they neared each other in the middle of the road. "Hardison looks upset, what's going on?"

"Nothin' I can't handle," Eliot replied quickly, slowing only slightly, "Don't worry about this, Nate, I'll take care of her. Get Hardison and Erin outta here and make a damn plan."

"Take care- Wha-?"

Eliot pushed Nate to continue toward the van and kept walking, barely able to conceal his limp.

"Hardison, get Nate the hell out of here once he gets to you."

_"Will do. Eliot, man, come back from this alive."_

"That's the plan."

Eliot reached his hand up to his ear, acting as though he was brushing away a bug or scratching an itch. As soon as he arrived at the Cartel's side of the road, he stumbled into Sophie, pressing his hand to hers before four men were on him. He allowed them to grab him, gripping his arms tightly. One kicked at the back of his legs and he went down to his knees in an instant, biting back a grunt of pain as he landed on his wounded leg.

.~~~~~~~.

Erin watched the exchange, breathless, from the inside of the van.

Just before he reached the other side of the road, Eliot put his hand up to his ear, seemingly scratching an itch. Then he stumbled into Sophie and suddenly four men were holding him, knocking him to his knees. She stifled a cry and continued to watch, wide-eyed. One of the goons twisted Eliot's injured arm around behind his back and Erin heard Hardison gasp.

"The hell?"

A stranger's voice met her ears and she turned her attention briefly from Eliot.

"Why is Sophie still over there?" The stranger demanded, "This wasn't supposed to go this way. Hardison?"

Erin looked the newcomer over. This must be Nate. The one with the grand plan. He appeared as though he hadn't slept in days and between his wild eyes and mussed up hair, she thought he looked slightly like a mad scientist or evil genius.

"I-I don't know, Nate," Hardison was watching the scene across the street, barely glancing at Nate. "They held her back when she tried to walk with you. I don't know what his game is."

"Well, let's get her back."

"No, Eliot said to get out."

"Like hell!" Nate started forward but Hardison put his arm in the way.

"Nate, they need you to come up with a plan to get them back safely. You try to get Sophie now and someone's liable to get shot. I don't feel like being made into black swiss cheese today."

Erin held her breath, her attention torn between the interaction next to her and what the Cartel members were doing to Eliot. The Cartel had put handcuffs on him and she could see Delgado laughing. Then Eliot said something that made Delgado punch him in the face, then send a quick knee to Eliot's ribs. She covered her mouth and looked away.

"Nate, come on, man," Hardison had a hand on Nate's arm, "We need to go."

Erin glanced back in Eliot's direction. She barely caught Sophie brushing her hair away from her ear.

_"Hardison?"_ Sophie's voice came through the comm line and Erin saw the hacker jump slightly. _"Get Nate away from here. Don't worry about us."_

Erin looked at Nate. "Eliot wants us all to stay safe and alive, we should do what he said."

Nate stared at her, as if noticing her for the first time. "And you are?"

"Erin Summers," she offered a quick smile, "I can explain more later, but we really should go. Now."

Hardison jumped into the driver's seat and started the van, glancing over at Nate. "Sophie just told us to get out of here."

"What?"

Erin sat in the back of the van, where Eliot had been only minutes before. "Eliot must have given her his earbud."

Erin heard Nate muttering under his breath, running a hand through his hair as he clambered into the passenger seat of the van.

"I need a drink."

.~~~~~~~.

Sophie's brain was in panic mode, her entire body wanted to just give in to the fear that coursed through her, but she knew she had to keep up her calm and collected act. She didn't know what Delgado's plan was, the man was a sleazy bastard who smelled like… old cheese and rancid wine. Definitely not to be trusted. And the bald spot on his head? Shivering slightly, she rubbed her hands over her arms and kept her eyes on Eliot. Of course he would agree to this kind of stupid plan.

As she was pushed into the same SUV as Eliot, she saw a flash of pain cross his face when one of the goons pulled on his left arm. A tiny dot of red was seeping onto the shoulder of his shirt and she bit back a gasp. Neither the goons nor Delgado had done anything so bad as to cause a wound like _that_. What the hell was going on?

The car began to move and Sophie continued to watch Eliot closely. His skin was a shade paler than it should have been. Thinking about it now, she'd seen him limp slightly as he'd walked toward her and he'd winced when the goons had forced him to the ground. Something had definitely happened and she was completely in the dark. But blood staining his shirt, even just that little bit, concerned her deeply.

Eliot barely glanced at her, offering her a quick wink, before closing his eyes and seemingly tuning out everything. She knew better. He was listening, learning, waiting, gathering all the information he needed, information he would use when the time came.

"Aren't you two happy to see each other?" Delgado grinned back at them. "Don't spare any reunion chit chat on my behalf."

Sophie shivered again, sending a glare in Delgado's direction, but saying nothing. The SUV jolted to one side, then the other as the road beneath them turned rural. The windows were so dark, she couldn't make out anything important. Nothing _distinctive_, as Eliot would say. After what felt like forever, the SUV came to a stop and she and Eliot were yanked roughly from the vehicle.

They were at a warehouse, not unlike the one she'd been kept in before. How many of these did this Delgado have? Shaking her head, she half followed the Cartel members into the building, shrugging away from their hands. Eliot was dragged harshly through to a room in front of her and she noticed that the goons made no effort to be gentle with him. They practically threw him into a chair, tying him securely with a thick rope.

She sat herself in the other chair provided, unwilling to let the Cartel touch her more than they absolutely had to. She bit back a wince as they tied the ropes around her, perhaps a bit too tightly. Turning to Eliot, she opened her mouth to say something when Delgado entered the room. The goons scattered.

"Well now, isn't this a pretty picture," Delgado smiled at them, approaching their chairs. "The illustrious Eliot Spencer and the ever beautiful Sophie Devereaux. You two are quite the pair."

"Who, her?" Eliot shook his head, a knowing wink sent quickly in Sophie's direction, "I don't give a shit about her, Delgado, but I can see you treat your rivals with great care."

A fist flew into Eliot's gut and Sophie gasped.

"Oh, you are so very naive if you consider yourself worthy enough to be my rival, Mr. Spencer," Delgado spoke quietly into Eliot's ear, "You are so far beneath me."

"And here I thought you liked to let other people be on top," Eliot shot back, grunting as Delgado hit him in the gut again and then the face.

Eliot laughed, "You still sending the rookies to do an expert's job, Delgado? How many men made it out of that warehouse? How many men did Parker escape from? And you think you're anywhere near the top? Please!"

Cursing in Spanish, Delgado laid into Eliot, fists landing with sickening "thunks" as they hit Eliot again and again.

"Stop, please!" Sophie begged, unable to keep the slight tremble from her voice. "Look, there must be some kind of mistake here."

Delgado smiled, sending a chill down the grifter's spine. "Mistake? Like the little half a million dollar mistake in Myanmar? Or how about the one in Pakistan? Or Russia? North Korea maybe? The only mistake here is that he allowed himself to get caught."

Sophie swallowed the sudden lump of fear in her throat. They weren't just going to beat Eliot into a bloody mess, they were going to sell him off to the highest bidder.

Eliot's low chuckle made the hairs on the back of Sophie's neck stand on end.

"Well," the hitter spat blood, grinning through reddened teeth, "That don't change the fact that you hit like a girl."

Delgado struck with such force that Eliot's head snapped back and Sophie couldn't stop the whimper that escaped from her lips. She winced when Delgado grabbed Eliot's hair, holding the hitter's head as he struck Eliot again and again, blow after vicious blow. Sophie lost count of the hits Eliot was taking as she forced herself to look away. She couldn't watch it anymore.

When it stopped, she looked up quickly, drawing in a quick, shaky breath. Eliot sagged in his chair, head bowed, blood trickling down his face and landing with an ominous "plop" on the concrete floor.

"Oh, don't worry, Ms. Devereaux," Delgado's voice was beside her, "I'll get full use out of the both of you."

She flinched away from his hand that stretched toward her face.

He only smiled. "Remind me again how long the French hold a grudge?" He laughed.

Sophie blanched but refused to respond to this psychopath, instead opting to remain silent. All her response would do would hurt one or both of them and Eliot was already unconscious. Her heart was racing, the noise pounding in her ears as she tried to think of something to do.

Delgado merely smiled at her, shaking his head and reaching for the phone that was now ringing loudly from his jacket pocket.

_"Sophie, try and remain calm."_

Nate's voice, slightly fuzzy, startled her. She'd forgotten about the earbud that Eliot had passed to her earlier.

_"I'm working on a plan to get you both out of there,"_ Nate continued. He paused, _"How's Eliot?"_

Delgado, distracted by his phone call, was cursing in Spanish, his back to them. She kicked Eliot's leg, just hard enough to get his attention. No response.

"He's out," she whispered, "What happened to him, Nate? He's acting more reckless than usual."

There was another moment of pause before Nate replied quietly, _"Three gunshot wounds, a dog bite and what seems to be a no-longer-ex girlfriend. Or so I've been informed."_

Sophie shook her head. "Bloody hell."

"Did ya say somethin', darlin'," Eliot drawled hoarsely.

Sophie jumped, surprised by Eliot's sudden voice.

_"Is Eliot awake already?"_ Nate's voice spoke in her ear.

"Well, that was just as fast as I should have expected for you, Mr. Spencer." Delgado approached their chairs, saying something quickly into his phone before sliding it back into his pocket. "So nice to see you can take a beating."

Slowly, Eliot lifted his head and Sophie could see the bruising and several cuts on his face. But he was smiling. Grinning that "you can go fuck yourself" grin that was so completely Eliot.

"Yeah, I _could_ take a beating, if that's what you were actually givin'."

Sophie couldn't stifle a gasp as Delgado suddenly backhanded Eliot, the hitter's head snapping to one side. Eliot spat blood and continued to grin at Delgado, even as Delgado hit him again. She looked away, unable to watch. A low growl of pain from Eliot instantly had her attention and she looked back.

Delgado had grabbed Eliot's injured shoulder, gripping tightly with his thumb pressing into the wound. She could see the pure pain on Eliot's face, the hitter was unable to conceal just how much it hurt, and she could only imagine…

"How about this, Spencer?" Delgado sneered, pressing harder on Eliot's wound. "Was this the kind of beating you had in mind?"

Eliot's narrowed eyes glared at Delgado and Sophie saw his jaw clench. She hoped for his sake that Eliot would just shut up for once.

"Naw," Eliot suddenly smashed his head into Delgado's nose, knocking the Cartel leader back a step, "_That_ was more what I had in mind."

With a screech of pain and hurt pride, Delgado rushed at Eliot, whipping a knife seemingly out of nowhere and stabbing it into Eliot's shoulder wound. The hitter twitched away from Delgado's charge, but the knife hit its mark. Eliot gritted out a howl of pain from between clenched teeth, his hands gripping the armrests of his chair.

"No!" Sophie screamed, struggling against the ropes tying her to her chair. "Stop it!"

Delgado turned and swiftly slapped Sophie across the face. "Keep your mouth shut, _puta_! Unless you want the same treatment."

Her cheek stinging from the strike, Sophie could only nod mutely, choking back a sob. Eliot was on the verge of losing consciousness again and she could only imagine the amount of sheer pain he was in.

Delgado twisted the knife in Eliot's shoulder, before pulling it free and tossing it aside. "Too bad," he wiped his hands on Eliot's shirt, a snide smile playing on his face, "Whatever happened to the killer without a conscience, the best retrieval specialist in the business? I quite liked you, Spencer. I do hate to see you go."

Eliot spat blood in Delgado's face, grinning, "I ain't goin' anywhere, Delgado."

One quick, hard hit from Delgado and Eliot was out, head lolled to one side.

"Now, you," Delgado pointed a finger in Sophie's direction, "You'd better keep a civil tongue in your head or you're liable to end up worse than your little friend here."

Sophie could only take in a quick breath, unable to think of anything to say or do now. With a chuckle, Delgado waved her off dismissively and walked away, slamming the door behind him.

"Bastard," Sophie murmured, suddenly aware of how fast her heart was beating.

She looked around her, noticing there were no guards in the room they were in. That seemed odd. Turning her attention back to Eliot she sniffed away a sob. The hitter's shoulder was soaked in red, blood dripping down his side in a steady stream. It felt like an eternity passed, the strong silence weighing on her ears.

_"Sophie," _Nate's voice spoke quietly through the comm,_ "We're coming to get you two out of there now. Tell Eliot to be ready."_

"How long?" Sophie whispered.

_"Ten minutes or less. We'll be coming in hot."_

"Okay."

Nervousness twisted Sophie's stomach into a knot as she looked at Eliot. He appeared to be still unconscious, the rope which tied him to the chair was the only thing currently holding him up. She gently nudged his leg with her foot.

"Eliot."

No response.

She tapped his leg again, slightly harder this time, "Eliot, wake up!"

The hitter's head snapped up in an instant, eyes scanning the empty room before fixating on her.

"Nate and them are on their way," she explained quietly, "Ten minutes and he said they're coming in hot."

Eliot nodded once, straightening in his chair. Sophie saw him wince as he moved his left arm.

"What did he mean, Eliot?"

A slow smile crossed his face, "Just Shelley and his guys. You ready?"

She blinked and stared at him, "We're still kind of tied up, you know."

He just smiled again, "Don't you worry about that, darlin'."

.~~~~~~~.

Eliot pushed away the pain searing through his entire left shoulder. He had to focus, had to get Sophie and himself out of this damn warehouse. Then he would come back in and rain hell on Delgado and his men. He forced his injured limbs to move, ignoring the agonizing screams of his body protesting.

Shots suddenly rang out further into the warehouse and Eliot saw Sophie flinch at the noise. With a grunt of pain, he tensed his muscles and pulled at the rope holding him to his chair. The fibers ripped and snapped under the pressure and he almost fell forward.

Grinning, he looked at Sophie, "Let's get the hell outta here."

She gasped as he stood up, clearly surprised to see him standing.

"We gotta run, fast," he told her, hurriedly untying her, "Stay next to the wall. I'll get you outta here in one piece."

Sophie stood up quickly, rubbing at the places where the rope had chafed.

"But, Eliot, your arm is bleeding. We need to get you to a hospital."

Eliot shook his head, "We'll deal with that once you're safe and Delgado is taken care of. Priorities, darlin'."

She silently nodded, cringing at a suddenly loud burst of gunfire.

"Those guns are the distraction we need, Soph."

He gently reached for her arm, leading her toward the door. Holding her back slightly, he slowly opened the door, just wide enough for them to slip through. Only one guard stood in front of the door.

Eliot jumped out quickly and quietly, wrapping his arm around the guard's throat, holding him until he went limp. Letting the man fall to the ground, Eliot straightened slowly, ignoring the burning pain in his injured shoulder. The sounds of gunfire were getting closer.

"Move!" He rushed Sophie along the wall of the warehouse, putting himself between her and the guns as they made a mad dash for the door. Glancing back only once, he saw Shelley and his guys under heavy fire from the Cartel. He had to get Sophie out first, then he would come back in to help them.

"Keep runnin' and keep your head down," he growled to Sophie, pushing her behind him as they reached the door.

They rushed out of the warehouse. The bright sun momentarily blinded him but he kept them moving. As his vision cleared, he saw the team with the van waiting near the fence line. The sounds of guns from inside the warehouse had ceased and he looked back to see a group of Cartel goons, led by Delgado. And they had another, different person with them, pushing him to his knees with his hands on his head.

He looked at Sophie. "Go!"

"_Shelley_! No!"

Erin's panicked scream reached Eliot's ears just as a single gunshot rang out and he turned to see a very distinctive body fall to the ground.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9: I Bet My Life

.~~~~~~~.

_"When my time comes  
__Forget the wrong that I've done  
__Help me leave behind some  
__Reasons to be missed_

_And don't resent me  
__And when you're feeling empty  
__Keep me in your memory  
__Leave out all the rest"_

Linkin Park, "Leave Out All the Rest"

.~~~~~~~.

Everything stopped.

No noise penetrated into Eliot's brain. Only one single thought.

_Kill Delgado._

His vision turned red, even as he pushed Sophie to safety. His brain barely registered Hardison and Nate holding Erin back as she struggled against them or the horrified expressions on Sophie and Parker's faces.

He knew what he had to do.

With an animalistic growl, he rushed straight for the nearest Cartel goons, nearly running them over. Bones crunched, ligaments tore, but their screams fell on deaf ears. He had zeroed in on his target and nothing was going to stand in his way. Not the pain from his wounds, nor the sounds of his team yelling at him to stop. This had to be done.

A goon entered his path and Eliot dealt one swift blow to the man's jaw, hearing bones crunching as the man fell in agony. Continuing his warpath, Eliot was only half aware of the damage he was causing as he went. All he was seeing was Delgado's face. He didn't even register the gunshots sounding around him.

Soon enough he reached the Cartel leader, hurling his body at Delgado with all the force he could muster. Delgado put his arms up to protect himself, but his attempt proved useless under Eliot's onslaught. The hitter threw punch after punch, striking with practiced precision at each and every opening Delgado had available.

Eliot was so caught up in destroying the man in front of him, emotions outweighing his normally perfect guard, that he didn't notice the goon approaching from his right until the man kicked at his bad leg. Falling to one knee, Eliot instinctively grabbed the man's foot, giving a vicious twist and push. The man fell, screaming, just as Delgado's knee connected with Eliot's head, knocking the hitter back and to the ground.

Now on all fours, dripping blood and growling, Eliot looked and sounded like a wounded animal. The bastard should have known you should never poke a wild animal. With a lunge, he dove for Delgado's legs, bringing the man down and pinning him to the ground under a barrage of punches. His hitter instinct took over at this point and he continued to hit Delgado, stopping only briefly to catch his breath and make sure the man was still alive. He was. Good.

"You bastard," Eliot's menacing growl made Delgado turn white as a sheet, "You think you'll get away with killing my best friend?"

Delgado flinched and looked away.

"Look at me you worthless fuck!" Eliot shook Delgado, "You want to know what kind of beating I had in mind? How about this!"

In less than half a second, Eliot wrapped his arms around Delgado's neck and twisted. A sickening crunch and a rattled breath and Delgado went limp. Eliot dropped the body and swayed on his knees. The tinge of red on the edge of his vision was dissipating and he looked around him. Dead and dying goons lay scattered around him, moans echoing off the warehouse walls. But they didn't matter to him.

Shelley's lifeless body was lying only a few feet away.

Eliot made an attempt to stand, to go to his friend, but his legs refused to work. He suddenly felt a throbbing pain in his left arm and he tried to move it. It hung limp at his side. A low growl of annoyance emitted from his throat and he tried to stand once more. His vision blurred, his head pounded and he felt himself falling. Landing on his good side he found himself facing Shelley's body and he smiled.

He always knew it would end like this.

The last thing his brain registered was loud sirens and several types of federal and emergency vehicles approaching.

.~~~~~~~.

Sophie could only watch in frozen horror, as she saw the scene unfold before her. After smashing through the Cartel, Eliot had just fallen over. Collapsed, on the ground. She knew he'd already been severely injured and now she didn't know if he was even still alive.

"Sophie!"

Nate's voice cut through her thoughts and she realized that the entire warehouse parking lot was suddenly filled with red and blue lights. Sirens echoed off the warehouse walls and she shook her head, clearing her mind and turning her attention to Nate.

"We need to get Eliot and Shelley and get out," Nate was telling her, gently resting a hand on her shoulder, "I have to talk to Bonanno before the Feds tear everything apart."

Sophie nodded mutely. She looked over and saw a young woman with her face buried in Hardison's shoulder, sobbing. Eliot's girlfriend. The hacker's face was a mixture of fear and confusion. Sophie took a deep breath and stepped forward.

"Hey, sweetie, why don't you come over here with me?"

The woman lifted her grief-stricken face, eyes red from her tears and nodded slowly, releasing Hardison and stumbling toward Sophie. The grifter caught her, wrapping her arms around the smaller woman's frame as she steered her toward the van.

"I-I want to s-see my brother," the woman stammered.

Sophie nodded. "You can do that. I'll talk to Nate," she paused, "What's your name, dear?"

"Erin," the woman responded, "H-He's gone… Shelley… I just… I can't…"

Erin collapsed, sobbing, as soon as Sophie got her into the back of the van. Sophie just held her, letting her cry out the immense grief she was obviously carrying.

"Ssshhh," Sophie murmured, comfortingly rubbing circles on Erin's back. She hadn't realized that the "Shelley" Eliot had mentioned was also Eliot's girlfriend's brother. The whole thing seemed complicated.

"Soph?" Nate was at the door of the van.

Sophie looked up.

"Bonanno gave us five minutes to get whatever we need and get out of here."

"What about Eliot?" Sophie asked quietly.

"He's in an ambulance en route to the closest hospital," Nate offered, running a hand through his hair.

Immediate relief washed over Sophie at the mastermind's words. Eliot would be alright.

"I have to get Shelley," Erin spoke up, sniffling, "I need to take him home."

Nate nodded, "Arrangements have been made for that. You just need to give me an address and he'll be taken care of, Erin."

"Thank you," Erin sniffed and wiped at her eyes, "All of you. I just, I need to go home."

"We'll get you home, sweetie," Sophie smiled encouragingly at her, "Both of you."

Erin smiled weakly in return, accepting Nate's hand to help her out of the van. Letting out a long breath as the other two left, Sophie curled into the corner of the van. This whole day, hell, the last three days had been so draining, physically and mentally. For everyone. As silent tears trickled down her cheek, she prayed to whatever god who might be listening that the team - her family - would stay alive and together. Even for just a little bit longer.

.~~~~~~~.

It was a steady beeping that woke him from the seemingly endless darkness. A methodical beep that came every one, no, two seconds. But as soon as he began to stir, that beeping sped up and his eyes snapped open. He saw white everywhere and a strong, distinctly medical smell assaulted his senses. A fucking _hospital_? His breathing accelerated and he struggled to sit up, but his left arm wasn't listening to his brain. Looking down, he saw his arm was in a sling.

"The hell," he cursed.

"Eliot, calm down, dear," Sophie's voice spoke from his other side.

Giving up his attempt to sit up, Eliot looked over at the grifter. Sophie looked as though she hadn't slept in a week, her normally perfect hair was unbrushed and she had dark circles under her eyes.

"Where am I?" He demanded. He felt so tired, groggy as if… Frowning, he glanced over to the IV stand next to his bed. Of course.

"Get me off this damn morphine!" He growled, turning his glare on Sophie. "Can't stand the stuff."

Sophie's lips twitched up into a small smile and she stood from her chair. "I'll get the nurse."

Eliot watched as she slowly crossed the room. "Sophie," he spoke quietly, "How long have I been out?"

Sophie let out a long sigh and turned to face him, "Three days."

Eliot's eyebrows shot up. "Th-Three days?!" He sputtered, the beeping of the monitor next to him speeding up to match his increasing heart rate. "The team?"

"Oh, everyone's fine, Eliot," Sophie spoke quickly, "We all got out safely and Nate talked to Bonanno. No one will know we were involved."

Eliot nodded, relaxing back on his pillows. "And Erin?" he whispered.

Sophie looked down, fingers fiddling with the hem of her shirt. "She, um…"

The door burst in just then, Parker and Hardison tumbling into the room with Nate following quietly after them.

"You're awake!" Parker excitedly jumped next to Eliot on his bed, causing the bed frame to creak slightly.

Eliot grunted as the thief jostled his entire, very sore, body. "Nice to see you, too, Parker." Parker's ecstatic grin made him smile slightly.

"Good to see you're awake, man," Hardison sat in the chair Sophie had vacated, "We've all been taking turns staying here, you know, keeping you company."

"Uh, thanks," Eliot offered quietly, "Glad you're all okay."

Nate just nodded, glancing at Sophie, "Did we interrupt something?"

"I, um," Sophie spoke softly, "Eliot was wondering about Erin."

Parker's hand shot up into the air as she bounced up and down on the bed. "I know, I know."

Frowning, Eliot looked from the overly energetic thief to the silent grifter. Sophie was offering nothing.

"She left," Parker took the silence as a chance to speak up, "She said you were too dangerous or something like that," she shrugged dismissively.

Eliot lay on the bed, unmoving. Parker didn't know how hard her words hit him, she wasn't aware that what she'd said should have been put differently. Normally, he would have appreciated her honesty, but not this time.

"We should let you rest," Nate said, opening the door and motioning to the rest of the team.

Parker scampered out, followed by Hardison.

"I'll be right there," Sophie said.

Nate nodded and left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

"Eliot, look," Sophie stepped up to his bed.

"Don't, Soph," Eliot shook his head, wincing as he shifted slightly. "Don't try and smooth over what Parker said."

Sophie sighed, "I'm sorry, Eliot. I wanted to tell you in a little less abrupt way."

Eliot frowned, "Don't apologize for her shit."

"Who? Erin or Parker?"

His jaw clenched, "Who do you think?"

"I'll just send the nurse in then," Sophie replied shortly.

Eliot sighed, "Soph?"

She looked at him.

"Thanks for bein' here," he offered a small smile, "You can go home and get some sleep now. I'll be fine."

She smiled in return and gently patted his leg. "That's what family does, Eliot."

Sophie left and Eliot let out a long breath. She was right, they _were_ family. He should have expected as much from them.

Hell, he should have expected it from Erin, but she'd run off scared. And for good reason. Parker's statement, while it had hurt to hear, was too damn close to the truth. He'd warned Erin, he'd tried anyway. He'd known he wouldn't be good for her, in some way or another. This time around it had not only hurt her but him as well. His best friend was gone. Dead. And he knew there was nothing he could have done to prevent it. Shelley was as stubborn as Erin.

A light knock sounded on the door and a young male nurse poked his head into the room.

"Mr. Walker?" the nurse smiled, approaching the bed, "So good to see you're awake. My name is Jeff. How are you feeling?"

Eliot bit back a growl. Of course his nurse had to be a damn dude.

"When can I go home?" Eliot asked, deciding not to question the use of "Walker."

Jeff smiled, checking Eliot's vitals and the monitors and jotting down notes on the files he held.

"Dr. Jones would like to keep you for another twenty-four to forty-eight hours, now that you're awake, just to monitor you and make sure there aren't any ill effects from the surgery."

Eliot coughed, "Surgery?"

Jeff nervously cleared his throat, pushing his glasses further up his nose. "Um, for your shoulder."

"My… what?" Eliot looked from his arm in a sling to Jeff, "The hell did you do to my shoulder?"

"Um," Jeff took a step back, clutching the files to him, "We, uh, did what we could, sir."

Eliot heard the heart monitor speeding up again and he glared at the terrified nurse.

"And what, precisely, is wrong with it?" he demanded quietly.

"I-I'm not qualified to answer that, sir," Jeff stammered.

Eliot's eyes narrowed, "Well, then go get someone who is!"

Jeff yelped and fled the room.

Eliot cursed under his breath and ripped the morphine IV out of his hand. That was one thing he didn't need the damn doctor for.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Walker," a doctor stood at the foot of Eliot's bed. He was older, greying hair combed to one side, and he smiled pleasantly at Eliot. "I am Doctor Jones. The nurse informed me that you had questions."

Eliot nodded. "What the hell happened to my shoulder, doc?"

Dr. Jones stepped up to Eliot's left side, gently prodding at the hitter's shoulder. "Can you feel that?"

Frowning, Eliot shook his head. That fucking heart monitor was giving him away again.

"Try to move your arm," Dr. Jones instructed, removing Eliot's sling.

Eliot lifted his arm, stretching it slightly, but as he moved his shoulder, attempting to bring his arm up, a sharp pain shot through him. Sucking in a quick breath, he relaxed his arm, tucking it defensively against his chest. He was scared. Something he rarely felt now enveloped his entire body, threatening to extinguish all other sensations.

"What?" he managed in a whisper.

Dr. Jones slipped the sling back onto Eliot's arm. "When you arrived, you had several previous injuries. Three wounds several days old had obviously received basic treatment, this you must already know." Jones clasped his hands behind his back, looking at Eliot solemnly, "Some kind of major trauma happened to your pre-existing shoulder wound, Mr. Walker. Through surgery, I managed to fix and mend what I could, but unfortunately some things are unable to be helped."

"What are you sayin', doc?" Eliot inquired.

"Your shoulder has permanent nerve damage. You will likely never be able to get full use from it again."

The heart monitor stopped beeping for a split second before it took off at a mile a minute.

"Is that a fact?" Eliot asked quietly.

Jones nodded, "There is always a small percentage of a chance that you will be able to use it completely again, but I would not count on it."

"Aren't there tests or something? Some way to fix it?"

Jones shook his head, "We ran all the tests. Mr. Ford insisted upon it. He and Miss Devereaux were both very concerned as to how you would take this news."

Eliot sighed, "And what's your consensus on that, doc?"

"I think you're managing quite well, Mr. Walker. I know how devastating this kind of injury can be to a man in your line of work."

Eliot blinked and looked away, "Yeah, look, how soon can I get outta here?"

"Tomorrow," Jones replied, "I'd like to keep an eye on you for one more night, now that you're awake."

With a sigh, Eliot nodded. "Fine."

"Additionally, I would advise no strenuous activities of any kind for four to six weeks after you leave the hospital.

The injury to your chest needs a lot of time to heal properly. No lifting anything heavy, nothing that can pull on the stitching or you're likely to end up back here sooner than I'm sure you'd like."

Eliot frowned, but nodded again.

"Now, one last thing, Mr. Walker," Jones continued, "I understand you're not a fan of morphine. But, I suggest you take some kind of pain reliever. Once the morphine wears off, well…"

"No," Eliot replied quickly, shaking his head, "I'll be fine."

Jones smiled slightly, "I will never understand how so many of you construction workers develop such a high pain tolerance."

Eliot chuckled dryly but offered no comment.

"Well, if you need anything, press this button here," Jones pointed to a red button on the side of Eliot's bed, "A nurse will come right away."

"Thanks, doc," Eliot said gruffly.

Jones just smiled, gave a curt nod and left the room.

Eliot leaned back against the pillows. His mind had reached a wall, a painful, terrifyingly serious wall. He was a hitter by trade, it was his job, what he was good at. Relying on his body to function properly was key and now… now he was fucked. Little to no use of his left arm and shoulder meant he couldn't perform the basic things necessary to do the most important job: protecting his team.

He stared off to the window, his mind not even processing the bright sunshine which glinted off the leaves of the trees outside.

What the _fuck_ was he supposed to do now? He was useless.

.~~~~~~~.

Sophie sat in an uncomfortable plastic chair, nursing a cup of cheap hospital coffee. It tasted like shit.

Eliot had been right. Now that he was awake, she could go home to get cleaned up and get some actual sleep. But her mind kept returning to that moment, the previous afternoon, when Dr. Jones had told her and Nate about Eliot and all that couldn't be done for his arm.

She sipped on the coffee, ignoring its disgusting aftertaste as she stared at the closed door in front of her.

Dr. Jones exited Eliot's room just then and Sophie stood up immediately.

"I recommend he is left alone to rest," Jones spoke quietly, "Does he have any family to call? Anyone to notify of his condition?"

Sophie straightened, "We _are_ his family," she stated, coolly.

Jones didn't even blink at her response, "Well, if he decides to use a physical therapist, I have several friends in the business."

"Thank you, doctor," Sophie smiled, touching his arm briefly and leaving her coffee abandoned on the side table as she entered Eliot's room.

The hitter was staring blankly out the window, clutching his left arm to his chest protectively. Sophie stepped further into the room, noting how Eliot barely glanced at her.

"You haven't gone home, yet," he spoke softly.

She shook her head, sitting down in the chair next to his bed.

"I wanted to see if you needed anything."

"Peace and quiet," he offered simply.

"Eliot, I-"

"Don't, Soph, _please_," he looked up, tortured blue eyes piercing into her, "Nothing you say will change anything."

Nodding, she stood from her chair and approached him. "Eliot, don't think you have to deal with this by yourself," she spoke softly, but her voice was firm, "This is what family is for, you know. All of us are here to help however you need us to."

Eliot frowned, "Don't need any help. Nothing to be done, anyway."

She smiled slightly, "Well, whenever you change your mind, dear, just let me know."

"Hardison and Parker, do they…?"

She shook her head, "No, though I expect Hardison has hacked into hospital records by now. Parker is in the dark. Nate thought you'd like to keep it that way."

Eliot nodded and looked away. Sophie caught a slight shift just then, his body relaxing more than she'd seen in a long time. She could only imagine what was going on in his mind right now, the news from the doctor, hearing Parker's blunt explanation about Erin, realizing that his entire life had changed and there was nothing he could do about it. For now, at any rate.

"Are you hungry?" She asked.

Eliot started and looked at her. "Um, yeah, actually."

She smiled, "What do you want to eat and I'll have Nate smuggle it into the building for you."

A slow smile spread across his face, a genuine smile, one that she hadn't seen in a while.

"Steak, medium-rare," he said, "And mashed potatoes if he can manage it."

"We'll get it," she pulled out her cell phone, "I thought you'd rather starve than eat hospital food."

He made a face and she laughed, "Just as I expected."

"I suppose a beer's askin' too much?"

She laughed again and shook her head. "I'm sure he'll try, but he might argue how it wouldn't be good for you."

Eliot's eyebrow rose, "Like he's one to talk."

"You're the one in the hospital," she replied.

"Sure," he argued, "But it's not like I'm on meds or anything."

Shaking her head, she dialed Nate's number, "I'll ask."

She saw his triumphant grin as she stepped out the door.

.~~~~~~~.

"Alright, Mr. Walker, you're all cleared to leave," Dr. Jones smiled at Eliot, "Just be sure to take it easy for at least several weeks and if you need anything at all, feel free to call me." The doctor handed Eliot his card.

"Thanks, doc," Eliot took the card and stuffed it into his pocket.

"You ready, El-uh, Jackson?" Hardison stood next to Eliot's bed, looking like he wasn't sure what he was doing.

Eliot nodded, "Yeah, let's get outta here." He stood slowly, testing his injured leg. It was the first time he'd tried to put any weight on it since he'd been in the hospital. Hardison immediately reached out a hand to help him.

"I got it, Hardison," Eliot growled, straightening and letting out a long breath, "Just, uh, grab my bag, would ya?"

The hacker nodded, casting a concerned glance in Eliot's direction as he reached for the hitter's bag.

Eliot walked carefully toward the door, passing Hardison and stepping out into the hallway. The sounds of nurses rushing and people coughing made him walk faster, his leg complaining as he went. He wanted to get the hell out of here.

"Slow down, man," Hardison caught up to him, "You don't want to put too much stress on your injuries."

Eliot glanced at him and flashed a quick smile. "I'll be fine, but thanks."

Hardison smiled back and pressed the button for the elevator.

"Where are the others?" Eliot asked, looking around.

"Oh, um, probably getting a bite to eat or something," Hardison looked away as he answered.

"Dammit, Hardison," Eliot grumbled, "Don't lie to me."

The hacker gave him a sheepish grin, "They're getting your condo ready."

"They're… _What?!_" Eliot's whispered outburst caused Hardison to take a step back.

"Look, the doctor said someone needs to be there to make sure you're not overworking yourself," Hardison explained, following Eliot into the elevator as the doors opened, "So, Sophie went out to buy groceries and Nate and Parker are making sure your condo's all clean and stocked up."

Eliot cringed at the thought. Parker and Nate "cleaning" his condo? Likely everything would be all rearranged and his pantry would be filled with nothing but coffee and cereal. He smiled slightly to himself. They were trying at least. His stone silence in the last twenty-four hours he'd been awake had likely been hard on all of them. At least Sophie grocery shopping probably wouldn't be too bad, seeing as she was the only one besides himself who actually ate decent food.

"Well, thanks, I guess," he muttered, grunting as the elevator moved and jolted his injuries. He'd been off the morphine since he'd woken up and was now dealing with an immense amount of pain. The doctor had been right, of course, but Eliot was not one to rely on pills of any kind that could potentially dull his senses.

As they exited the elevator an orderly bumped into his left arm and he bit back a growl as pain shot through him. The girl flinched away and quickly apologized. Eliot brushed it off and followed Hardison out the doors.

"Where are you parked?" Eliot asked, looking around the parking lot.

Hardison smiled and pressed a button on the set of keys in his hand. A car chirped and Eliot's eyebrows rose. Lucille sat parked in a handicapped space near the hospital entrance. No signs of spray paint on the exterior.

"A handicapped spot?" Eliot glared at the hacker, "Really?"

"Hey, anything for my best friend," Hardison smiled, "Parker told me how you guys found Lucille. So I had her cleaned up, detailed and outfitted with a nice security system. It's like she's brand new."

Eliot shook his head as they walked toward the van. "Glad you got her all fixed."

"That's thanks to you and Parker, you know," Hardison commented quietly.

Eliot looked at him. Hardison's face shone a deep appreciation and Eliot smiled, nodding.

"You're welcome, Alec."

Hardison's smile widened and he started the van. "Let's get you home."

They arrived at Eliot's condo rather quickly, even with Hardison driving with a lot more care than usual. Without even a slight growl, Eliot allowed the hacker to help him out of the van and hold the building door open for him. He knew Hardison wanted to feel useful and he decided that he wouldn't show his irritation at usual every day things that he was still perfectly capable of doing himself.

"And there he is!" Sophie's excited voice reached Eliot's ears as he and Hardison entered the condo.

Parker jumped up from behind the couch, blowing on a noisemaker and throwing confetti in Eliot's direction, grinning like a fool.

Eliot flinched slightly at the paper being thrown at him, but managed a smile for Parker. She was trying to be normal.

Nate stood off to the side, offering a soft smile as Eliot walked further into the room.

"Good to see you upright, Eliot," Nate commented.

Eliot grunted, slowly lowering himself onto his couch. He suddenly felt so tired.

"I made dinner for you!" Parker exclaimed, jumping in front of Eliot and shoving a plate in his face.

Eliot looked from the thief's ecstatic countenance to Sophie and Nate, hoping his feeling of panic wasn't too prevalent on his face.

"Yes, Parker and I cooked you some chicken, vegetables and rice," Sophie spoke up, smiling, "We had Nate taste-test it."

"Yeah and he thought it was delicious!" Parker added, still grinning.

Nate nodded and Eliot could see that the mastermind was actually seriously agreeing with the two women. _This_ was certainly a first.

Eliot smiled at Parker, "Thanks, Parker, just put it on the table there. I need a minute to settle in."

With a smile and a nod, Parker set the plate in front of Eliot on the coffee table and perched on the armrest on the other side of the couch from Eliot. Sighing, Eliot shifted and stretched out along the length of the couch, closing his eyes. He just needed to rest a little and then he would be back to his normal self.

The sound of the television suddenly blaring a children's cartoon startled him and his eyes snapped open. Parker sat, mesmerized by the TV. He looked around. Sophie and Nate sat at his dining room table, both with steaming cups of coffee. Hardison had taken up residence on the loveseat, madly typing away on his laptop.

Eliot smiled. Despite it all, he was glad to see that his crazy little family was seemingly back to a normal routine. Sure, he liked his privacy and he hated having so many damn people in his own home, but he knew it made them all feel better and together again.

.~~~~~~~.

Several days had passed, with the entire team practically living in Eliot's condo. Sophie was her usual motherly self, protective of Eliot and making sure, possibly more than was necessary, that he had everything he needed. The polar opposite of Nate's seemingly indifferent silence. Parker was hyper, moreso than usual, and Hardison attempted to be helpful but usually ended up sitting around on his computer.

Sophie entered the condo, after having run a quick errand, and looked around the living room. Hardison had fallen asleep on the loveseat, computer still open on his lap. Parker was glued to the television, shoveling popcorn into her mouth in a nearly robotic fashion. She knew Nate was off probably getting a drink.

"Where's Eliot?" Sophie asked, realizing the hitter wasn't in his usual place on the couch.

Parker shrugged, not looking away from her TV show. "Oh, I'm sure he's around somewhere," she replied vaguely.

"Parker, where is he?" Sophie demanded.

The thief silently pointed a finger up toward the ceiling. "But if he asks, I didn't say anything."

Sophie smiled, her sudden rush of panic disappearing. "Thank you, Parker."

Parker just shrugged again, turning back to the TV.

With a sigh, Sophie exited the condo and made her way toward the stairs which led to the roof. As she stepped out onto the roof of the building, she immediately saw Eliot at the far end, his back to the door. She'd never been up here before and she took in the sight of a handful of chairs and shade canopies, noting also the various vegetable gardens and flower beds scattered around the otherwise bland rooftop. She smiled. Eliot definitely lived here.

She approached him slowly, walking up on his side and leaning against the railing next to him. He looked less pale than he had when he was in the hospital, but his usual cheeky grin was missing, the brightness normally in his eyes was nowhere to be seen.

"Parker tell you where to find me?" Eliot asked quietly, not looking at Sophie.

"No, she didn't say a thing," Sophie offered.

They stood in silence for a moment before Sophie spoke again.

"Does it still hurt?" She asked softly.

Eliot glanced at her, a look of painful resignation etched onto his face, "It always will, Soph."

She drew in a quick breath and looked away, brushing away a sudden tear from her eye. "I'm sorry, Eliot."

"Shit happens," he said, "Honestly, I'm surprised this kind of thing hadn't happened already," he looked at her, "I'll just learn to deal with it."

Sophie nodded, unsure how to respond to what he'd just said.

"How much longer are y'all gonna be staying with me?" He asked.

"We can leave this afternoon if you need us to, Eliot," she told him, "I know how much you thrive on peace and quiet."

A slow sigh escaped him and she could _feel_ him relax. "Thanks, Soph."

She smiled, trying to hide the bit of concern from her voice, "Of course."

He looked at her, a hint of his usual humor in his eyes as he smiled at her, "I'll be okay, Sophie. Been takin' care of myself for twenty years."

"I don't doubt that you're capable, Eliot," Sophie said, "I just worry about you, and the others as well, especially after… things like this."

He nodded, looking out over the city, and she noticed he was lightly rubbing his injured arm with his right hand. She watched him for a moment, seeing various rather distinctive emotions playing across his face.

His brow knit together for a moment before he looked at her, "You ever have that one person who's seen it all, been with you at your worst point, and still stuck by you, still loved you despite all the shit you throw at them?"

She nodded, her mind immediately thinking of the young woman, Erin, whom she had met only briefly.

"And when you've lost them, the only person who knows all your dark secrets, and you feel… empty…" he trailed off, leaving his question hanging.

"Are you going to go after her?" She asked.

His head snapped toward her, blue eyes clearly showing his surprise. Then he smiled, a slow, warm smile, and he nodded. "'Course I am."

She gently rested her hand on his shoulder. "Good, because if you had said no, I think I would have to slap some sense into you."

"And I would've deserved it," he chuckled, "I gotta at least try. There's too much history there for me to just let her go without an attempt."

"Eliot, if she feels for you as much as you obviously do for her, then I'd say it's definitely worth an attempt."

"Yeah, I know."

.~~~~~~~.

"What are you doing here, Nate?" Eliot leaned against the doorframe of his bedroom.

"Oh, you know," Nate shrugged, pouring himself a cup of coffee. "You have amazing coffee, by the way, what kind is it?"

Eliot chuckled and shook his head, "It's only been four days, Nate. I've been fine since you all left. Don't need any damn babysitters."

Nate nodded, "Of course not."

Silence fell over them for a moment.

"I need some time off," Eliot finally stated quietly.

"I know," Nate sipped his coffee, "How long?"

Eliot shrugged his good shoulder, "Two weeks, maybe longer, not sure."

Nate nodded again, absently spinning the mug in his hands, "Take however long you need, Eliot," he smiled knowingly, "We'll all be here when you get back."

Looking away briefly, Eliot glanced out the window at the darkened city. He'd thought long and hard about this, about walking away for an indefinite amount of time. Part of him never wanted to come back, but that part was overruled by his overwhelming need to protect a team who had become the closest family he'd ever had.

"Don't call me unless it's an emergency," Eliot said, stepping up to the counter and looking the mastermind in the eye, "And I mean _real_ emergency. Also, I'm gonna need you to tell the team, especially Hardison, to not try and track me down or use any kind of damn bug or GPS thing."

Nate waved him off, "Yeah, I get it, you want to be off the grid."

"It's not just for me, Nate," Eliot sighed.

"You're going to try and talk Erin into going with you to wherever it is you intend on going," Nate stated simply, "A little romantic vacation, if you will, without nosy relatives poking about," the mastermind smiled, "I understand."

Eliot shook his head, a small smile brightening his face for a moment. "Something like that."

"Let me know how it goes."

"How what goes, exactly?"

Nate gave a nonchalant shrug, "Going home after all these years."

Eliot tensed. He didn't even want to know how or why Nate had figured that out. Turning back toward his bedroom, he looked over his shoulder at Nate. "Look, I got a thirteen hour drive I need to get ready for. Let yourself out, will ya?"

"Sure thing."

A few short minutes later, Eliot heard his front door close and he let out a sigh. His one bag sat on the foot of his bed, packed and ready to go. With a low growl, a mixture of pain and annoyance, he swung the bag over his shoulder and turned toward the door.

"You're going to come back, right?"

The sudden voice startled him. Parker sat on his kitchen counter, legs crossed, her folded hands propped under her chin.

He nodded, "Yeah, Parker, I'm gonna come back."

"You promise?" The thief looked up at him, brown eyes filled with something he felt was actual concern, or close to it.

"I promise, Parker," he assured her.

Instantly, she jumped off the counter and wrapped her arms around him. He stood, dumbfounded. Parker… hugging?

"Remember, Eliot, you have to keep your promises."

He smiled as she took a step back, "I will."

"Are you going to bring Erin back, too? I liked her."

"I'm gonna try."

"There is no try," Parker's voice had gained a gravelly edge and sounded very, very odd, "Only do or do not."

Eliot blinked, confused at the strange voice emitting from the thief. She must have been quoting a movie or something that she and Hardison had seen.

Parker gave him one of her quirky half smiles and patted the top of his head, "When you return, we will teach you the ways of the Force, young Padawan."

"Uh, sure," he replied, still confused but smiling. Hardison, in all his geekiness was actually making Parker more relatable to other people. It was kind of adorable, in a slightly disturbing sort of way.

"Please don't sneak into my condo while I'm gone, Parker," he told her.

She nodded, "Of course."

"I mean it," he attempted a glare but just couldn't make himself actually go through with it. Instead he offered a smile, "I'll see you soon, okay?"

She grinned and nodded, opening the front door for him and following him out into the hall.

"Don't call me unless it's an emergency."

"Got it," Parker nodded, "Only an emergency."

Shaking his head, he locked up and turned down the hall. As he reached the elevator, he glanced back toward his door. Parker had disappeared. Likely run off to Hardison.

He chuckled. Yes, he would definitely be coming back.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10: Feel Good Drag

.~~~~~~~.

_"I can't see where you're comin' from,  
__But I know just what you runnin' from.  
__And what matters ain't the "who's baddest" but the  
__Ones who stop you fallin' from your ladder._

_This ain't no place for no hero.  
__This ain't no place for no better man.  
__This ain't no place for no hero,  
__To call home."_

-The Heavy, "Short Change Hero"

_.~~~._

_"So roll that top down, hell with this town,  
__Leave our bags behind,  
__We don't need a reason,  
__Cause I got you, and you got me tonight."_

-Train, "Bulletproof Picasso"

.~~~~~~~.

Leaving Boston around ten that night meant that Eliot wouldn't arrive at his destination until nearly noon the next day. He knew most people would have preferred to wake up at the crack of dawn and drive all day, but he wasn't most people. He much preferred driving at night. There were less people on the road then and besides, it wasn't as if he was getting much sleep lately anyway.

The drive to Kentucky was quiet, as he expected, and oddly peaceful, despite the terrifying images and thoughts flashing through his brain. Thanks in part to Delgado and mostly to his already dark past for that... Shaking his head, he focused on the road before him, the hum of his old Ford pickup soothing his overworked mind. He'd put in a cassette tape of some of his favorite country artists and had the volume up and windows down, letting the countryside breeze flow through the cab and toss his hair. Whenever he was alone, music to distract him from his thoughts, he felt an amazing sense of calmness surrounding him and now was no different.

As he passed a sign that said "Welcome to Kensington," he immediately felt a knot of dread building up inside of him. That was a shorter drive than he remembered. He hadn't been home, hadn't crossed that county line, hell not even that state line, since, well… it'd been a few years. Frowning, he turned down a familiar street, then another, old memories and habits coming back to him as he drove.

Stopping in front of a two story, light blue house, he turned off his truck and just sat. It had been a long time since he'd been here. The white picket fence was as bright and fresh as he remembered from when he was a kid. Many flowers, both local and exotic, covered several trellises around the front yard. The windows on the first floor were open, a slight breeze whipping the same white curtains to and fro. A familiar old, rusty, red Toyota was parked in the driveway.

With a sigh, he stepped out of his truck and approached the house. The gate opened easily under his hand, swinging back closed with hardly a sound. Stones under his feet were clean, looking the same as he remembered. Smiling slightly, he walked up the steps and knocked lightly on the front door.

Almost instantly, the door opened and a short Japanese woman stood, smiling.

"Jackson!"

Eliot smiled, "Hello, Mrs. Summers, is Erin home?"

Mrs. Summers continued smiling and took Eliot's hand, leading him into the house. "Come in, come in. And for the last time, Jackson, call me Hikari."

Eliot allowed Hikari to pull him into the house, remembering at the last second to slip off his boots at the door.

"Erin is not here right now," Hikari was still talking as she walked toward the kitchen, "But she's around." She waved her hand, looking at him, "Are you hungry? I've made chicken salad sandwiches for lunch."

"I, uh," Eliot stood awkwardly in the doorway to the kitchen, "I don't want to impose, Mrs., um, Hikari, ma'am."

"Nonsense," Hikari put a plate on the table, "Sit. Eat. I know how you are always starving. You boys, always eating."

Eliot sat as he was bidden, watching as she sat across from him at the table. "I, um, I'm sorry about Shelley," he said, hoping she didn't see how awkward and nervous as he felt.

Hikari frowned briefly before her usual smile returned, "It is the way of life. We wish to outlast our children, but sometimes fate decides that for us. He was happy, he was protecting Erin, and you," she patted his hand, "There is nothing to be sorry for, Jackson."

Eliot managed a smile as he began eating the food Hikari had given him. He'd missed this. Home cooked meals from Erin and Shelley's mother. The Summers' house had always been open to him, since he was a kid, fresh food and welcoming atmosphere at all times. When Mr. Summers, Liam, had still been alive, he and Eliot would talk about football and fishing. And about girls at times, as well. Eliot smiled to himself.

Then he remembered why he'd come back in the first place. "Erin. Is she in town? Or?"

Hikari sat silent for a moment, "I expect she is visiting Shelley."

Eliot froze. There was that, too.

"He's next to his father," Hikari added, quietly, "You know the spot."

He nodded. "Thank you, ma'am," he stood, taking the half sandwich he hadn't eaten yet, "I really should go find her."

"Jackson?"

Eliot looked at her, "Yes, ma'am?"

"You two are good for each other. You know that."

He smiled, "I do know, trust me."

"Go, go," Hikari stood next to him, pushing him gently toward the door, "Go talk some sense into that girl and get her out of her funk."

"Yes, ma'am."

.~~~~~~~.

Kensington, Kentucky was a small town, at least counting the main street and town part itself. There were dozens of outlying houses and large farms in the surrounding countryside. The town cemetery was within walking distance of nearly everything along Main Street, and it took Eliot only ten minutes to get there.

He stopped at the gate, tossing aside the crust of the sandwich Mrs. Summers had given him and watching two little sparrows fighting over it. Taking a deep breath, he walked through the gate, following the stone footpath through the center of the rows upon rows of headstones. Near the back and slightly off the main path, a shorter fence surrounded a handful of graves, "Summers" written on a placard next to an opening in the fence.

Entering the private area, Eliot took in all the names etched in stone before him. Almost all of Shelley's father's side of the family was buried here. Great-grandparents, grandparents, Liam and his brother, Sean, and now the latest addition. The dirt was still in a partial mound, the marble stone clean and new, and fresh flowers, vibrant yellow and orange lilies, lay in front of the headstone.

The stone itself had a simple inscription,

"Shelley Patrick Summers"

Followed by Shelley's date of birth and death. And then another inscription:

"Son, Brother, Friend, Hero

Family First, Always"

"I'm so sorry, Shell," Eliot whispered, resting his hand briefly on the headstone, "You were always a better man than me. I wish things could have gone differently."

He reached into the pocket of his leather jacket. Metal clinked as he pulled out worn, slightly bent dog tags and laid them on the top of Shelley's headstone.

"Been holding onto these for almost twenty years now," he cleared the lump of emotion from his throat, "I figured you'd want 'em back."

As he stood still in front of the headstone, Eliot felt a familiar presence slightly behind him and off to his left. Without even turning his head, he knew who it was. He'd expected her to be here, after all.

"It was a beautiful service," her voice was quiet, sounding raw from emotion, "Twenty-one gun salute and all."

"I'm sorry I missed it, Erin," he replied, "I wanted to be here."

She stepped up next to him and he glanced at her, taking in her appearance. Her hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail, her eyes had too much makeup, no doubt to cover the dark circles and redness from lack of sleep and crying. He recognized the shirt she wore as one of Shelley's old highschool football ones, the raggedness of it matching the holey jeans she also had on. She looked like she hadn't slept in a month and hadn't eaten a decent meal in longer, and yet he couldn't get over how fucking beautiful she was.

"How are you, Eliot?" Erin asked in a whisper, looking up at him.

He really didn't want to tell her about how he'd been in ICU for nearly five days, or how the team had had to monitor him for almost a week afterward, to make sure he was recovering properly. He also didn't want to tell her that he could barely move his left arm, or what the doctor had told him about it.

But before he could ask her if she really wanted to know, she threw herself at him, arms wrapping around his waist. He grunted in surprise and instinctively put his good arm around her.

"Sophie called me last week," she murmured, looking up at him, "I'm so sorry."

He smiled, wiping away the tears trickling down her face. "It's okay, darlin'."

She shook her head, "No, it's not. You almost died _again_, you have scars that won't heal," she gently touched his left shoulder, "And I - I was too selfish and self absorbed to even pick up the phone and _call_ you."

"You had enough to deal with, Erin," he told her, lifting her face up to his, "I'm still alive."

She smiled at him then, her whole face lighting up, tear-filled eyes glinting in the afternoon sunlight. Her lips were on his in an instant and he pulled her closer to him, deepening the kiss. She tasted like honey.

"Eliot," she whispered his name against his lips and he pulled back slightly to look at her, "Can we try this again?"

His eyebrow shot up and he searched her face. "What exactly?"

"This… relationship stuff - _us_."

Looking away from her for a moment, he let out a long breath. "Yeah, sure, I'd like that," he looked back at her and gave her a slow smile, "I'd like that a lot."

She grinned and kissed him again, too quickly, before taking a half step back. "I know you want to keep me safe and away from all that dangerous stuff from your past. So I've been thinking. I'm willing to be off the grid completely, if that's what it takes to be with you. I can leave all this, assume an alias, whatever I need to do."

Eliot pulled her closer to him, his voice low, "I'm not asking you to do all that for me, Erin, think about what you're sayin'."

"I know exactly what I'm saying, Eliot," she put her hand on his chest, right over his heart, "I love you and I want to be with you."

"Alright, if that's what you really want to do then. But, listen to me," he looked her directly in the eye, "At any point you can walk away. If the runnin' becomes too much, if you can't take the hiding and fake ID's - and trust me there'll be more than you think - you can leave whenever you feel like you need to. I won't think any less of you for it."

She nodded slowly, her signature Summers Smirk on her face, "The only way I'm walking away is if you come with me, so don't even think about it, cowboy."

He chuckled, pressing his lips to her forehead. "You always were so damn stubborn."

"That's why you love me."

He sighed. He knew she was right and there were many other reasons why he loved her. But he didn't need to get into all that. Right now he was content to just hold her.

.~~~~~~~.

After a long moment of standing in Eliot's embrace, Erin looked up at him. "How long are you staying in town?" She asked quietly.

"I gotta go see my parents," he replied in a whisper, frowning, "And I was planning a trip out of the country. Leaving early tomorrow morning."

She tensed and she knew he noticed.

"You're more than welcome to join me, if you want to, darlin'," he added, smiling that damn smile of his.

"I can be packed in an hour," she grinned, "Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise. Pack for someplace cool."

"How long will we be gone?" She asked.

He was still smiling. "However long we want to be."

She leaned up to kiss him again and held it longer this time, enjoying this moment with him. After what felt like an eternity, she pulled back slightly and looked up at him.

"I'm so sorry, about everything," she told him in a rush, "I know what happened wasn't your fault. Shelley made his decision and he did what he did best: protecting his family," she smiled as she glanced at Shelley's grave, "He wouldn't want blame to be passed around, he wouldn't want us to mourn and be depressed for months or years like some people. He'd want us to move on, be happy, celebrate life."

"Yeah, you're right," Eliot spoke up, "Erin, I…"

Erin looked at him, "What, Eliot?"

"I came back here, not just to say goodbye to my friend, but to see you, too."

She gave him a "that's obvious" stare and he shook his head.

"I'm not finished, you impatient girl," he continued, and she heard him take a deep breath, "Over the last two weeks, I've been doing a lot of thinking. I didn't know if you would even speak to me, let alone want to be in the same freakin' room. And within five minutes of bein' with you, you're ready to jump on a plane to another country with me," he paused and she could see the perplexity on his face, "I guess, what I'm tryin' to say is that, um, I love you, Erin."

She held her breath, pure joy immediately filling her heart, as he continued.

"I think I always have, but I just haven't been able to really put it into words until now," he whispered, smiling and brushing his thumb over her cheek, "I'm sorry it took me so long, darlin'."

"I've been waiting for you to actually say it," she replied, leaning into his touch as she smiled up at him, "I love you too, Eliot. I'd travel anywhere in the world for you."

He chuckled and kissed her forehead. "Well, we're not going just _any_where. Not yet anyway," he winked at her, "But I'll keep that in mind."

She looked up at him, "What time is the flight in the morning? And isn't it too late for me to get on the same one as you?"

He smiled, shaking his head, "I've got it all worked out, don't worry. Flight's at six."

"Six?" Her eyes were wide, "That's so early!"

"Naw, besides you can sleep on the plane, it's a long flight."

She frowned, "And you're not telling me where we're going?"

"Nope."

She stuck her tongue out at him, "Fine, I guess I should go and pack, then."

"I guess you should," he replied, "I'll walk you home."

She slipped her hand into his as they left the cemetery and walked back through town.

"Tell me something, Erin," he said after a few minutes of silence.

"What?"

"Whatever happened to my house?"

She looked up at him, "You haven't been by to see it then?"

His eyes narrowed, "What did you do?"

"Something you'll like," she told him, grinning, "We can walk by it on the way back to Mom's."

She felt his irritation and it made her smile only wider. As they turned down the next street, she watched his face closely. Confusion, surprise, and there it was, shocked happiness.

"You… didn't…"

"Oh, but I did," she couldn't suppress a short laugh, "Welcome to the Jackson House."

He'd frozen in place, his attention on the house in front of them.

"After you left, I found the deed that you put in my name," she looked up at him, "But I just couldn't sell the place. So now it's rented out room by room to kids with nowhere else to go."

His head snapped to look at her, realization hitting him. She just smiled.

"Drop outs, orphans, kids who would have kept jumping from place to place before stopping here. Old Mr. Anderson keeps an eye on everything and the kids listen to him. Every Monday night there's music lessons, Wednesdays the kids learn to cook and Fridays everyone goes to football. They work, doing odd jobs around town if nothing else. And we make sure they stay in school."

"Erin, I," Eliot looked at her, his voice soft and filled with emotion she hadn't heard before, "I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything, Eliot."

He pulled her close suddenly, hands on each side of her face, and kissed her hard.

"Thank you," he whispered.

She smiled, "You're very welcome. I thought you'd like it."

"But where are you living then, if not with your mom or here?"

"Honestly," she ducked her head, embarrassed, "I was kinda living out of Dad's old truck."

He stared at her, "Seriously?"

She nodded, giving him a sheepish grin, "Yeah. You know when I told you I'd moved out of town, I never exactly got around to mentioning where I'd moved to."

"We'll have to do something about that," he said, shaking his head, "But we can figure that out after we get back."

She nodded, wondering what he had in mind. Her brain immediately went to the idea of them living together again, like they'd done years ago. But he was different now, things had changed. Sure they were _them_ again, in a way, and yet there were a lot of things that kind of hung in the air.

"Jackson?" A distinctly familiar female voice spoke from further up the sidewalk, "Oh my God!"

Erin glanced up at Eliot. He was frozen again, looking directly ahead. She saw a clearly recognizable hesitation in his eyes. Then he drew in a deep breath and turned, a forced smile on his face.

Aimee Martin walked briskly toward them, a little blond baby on her hip. She smiled at Eliot, but seemingly ignored Erin's presence. Erin frowned, holding Eliot's hand a little tighter. She felt him squeeze her hand once and caught his eyes flashing to hers briefly.

"Aimee," he spoke quietly, firmly, "How've you been?"

There was a pause. "Good, I've been good. You?"

Eliot nodded slowly, shrugging one shoulder, "Been alright, I guess."

"It's been a long time, Jackson."

Erin moved a little closer to Eliot, feeling protective and slightly jealous at the same time. She knew the history here, and she knew Eliot was far past Aimee, but she hadn't thought about what might happen should they actually see each other again.

"Yes, it has," Eliot replied simply.

Aimee was still smiling, but Erin saw it falter slightly at Eliot's non-explanatory responses. When Aimee looked down for a moment, Erin could have sworn the woman looked sad. "This is Geoffrey, by the way," Aimee looked at the boy in her arms, "He'll be two next week."

Erin felt Eliot stiffen slightly but he offered no response.

"I got married, Jack," Aimee blurted, "After you left, the second time. I knew it was over between us before you left the first time, you know."

Eliot nodded, "I know," he offered quietly sounding truly apologetic, "I'm sorry, Aimee."

She shook her head, flashing a quick smile as if to brush it off, "Obviously it wasn't meant to work out with us," she glanced at Erin, "But, I hope it works out for you two."

"Thanks," Eliot said.

"I, um, I guess I'll see you around, Jack, Erin," Aimee smiled again and turned down the sidewalk, cooing to the baby in her arms.

"Well," Erin began quietly, "That was certainly…"

"Something I don't think I'd like to repeat," Eliot interrupted, stepping away and crossing his arms.

The tone of his voice caused Erin to look at him, _really_ look at him. What she saw in his eyes both surprised and scared her. Some of that old anger, that bottled up emotion he rarely let out, was bubbling near the surface, underneath a cool mask of indifference. She knew him well enough by now to catch the little nuances others would surely miss and the fact that he'd slid that mask there so quickly, so smoothly, worried her.

"Eliot," she spoke softly, stepping in front of him, breaking his line of sight to Aimee's disappearing figure.

He blinked, shook his head quickly and looked away. "I-I'm sorry, Erin."

"Don't be," Erin gently laid a hand on his arm, holding it there even as he flinched slightly,

"We all have pasts that catch up to us, Eliot. We just have to learn how to deal with them without being broken by them."

He looked at her then, his blue gaze boring into her. The panic and slight fear she'd seen dissipating as the corner of his mouth lifted into a small smile.

"You know your mom is half right."

She started, "What? How so?"

He chuckled, "She said that we're good for each other."

"How does that make her half right?"

"Because you're obviously too damn good for me," he replied quickly, suddenly serious, "But I'm not sure what good _I'm_ givin' in this relationship."

She smirked, crossing her own arms and looking up at him. "You hear yourself just now?"

He cleared his throat and looked away, his face flushed.

"You know you turn an adorable shade of red when you're all embarrassed," she laughed, leaning up to kiss his cheek. "Don't think too hard about it, Eliot, or you're liable to burst."

Casting a quick glare in her direction, he reached for her hand again, "Come on," he growled good-naturedly, "You have to pack, remember?"

Laughing she allowed him to lead her down the street and back to her Mom's house.

"I'll probably be back in about an hour or so to pick you up," he told her, "Are you sure that's enough time?"

She nodded, "Yes, definitely."

Kissing her briefly, he smiled and turned to his truck. She waved as he drove away, grinning like a teenager. Her whole body felt as though it would burst with happiness.

.~~~~~~~.

The family farm was several miles outside of town but the short drive felt like an eternity to Eliot. As he drove up to the familiar front gate, his stomach twisted and he bit back a curse. Faded letters spelled out the name "Walker" on a rusted mailbox that obviously had seen better days. He pulled into the driveway and drove slowly up the gravel lane toward the house. Fences around him were dilapidated, fallen and rusted from years of neglect. There were no cows happily munching on the brown, dried out grass, no horses running across the field, wind whipping through their manes like he remembered. Everything appeared dead, a lifeless shell of what used to be.

He took a deep breath as he stopped his truck and stepped out, taking in the house in front of him and it's stark contrast to the Summers' home. The trees were overgrown, branches leaning against and falling on a roof that was in bad need of repairs. The yellow paint, once so bright and cheerful, now was cracked and peeling like an old scab. Weeds grew rampant throughout the yard, engulfing the little bits of green grass which poked up here and there.

With a frown, Eliot began a slow walk up the path to the front porch of the house. He paused for a moment and stepped up to the door. He knocked twice, quickly taking a step back and putting his hands in his pockets. That nervous feeling built up in the pit of his stomach and be pushed back the urge to vomit. He cursed under his breath as he waited, knowing that he shouldn't be having such a terrified reaction to being there.

After waiting another minute, he turned to leave and heard the door open behind him.

"Jackson?" A woman's voice trembled, "Is that you?"

Eliot tensed and turned slowly. He managed a small smile for the woman standing in front of him.

"Hi, Mom."

Annie Walker smiled brightly, her brown eyes shining. She looked older than he remembered, gray beginning to lighten her wavy dark brown locks. She held out her arms and he automatically stepped into her welcoming hug.

"Oh, Jackson, it's been too long."

He breathed in deeply, the scent of gardenias and lemons filling his mind with memories of his childhood. It hadn't _all_ been bad.

"I know, Mom," he responded quietly.

She stood back and searched his face.

"You're different," she said, "There's some old Jack there, but something about you has changed."

He forced a smile. "Everyone changes."

Annie smiled and shook her head. "Come on in, supper's on."

Eliot looked around the yard before following his mother into the house. Everything was just as he remembered. All the same furniture in the same places, even the same damn curtains in the windows. As he walked through the entry hallway, he saw the wall of family photos. There were a handful from when he was younger, pictures with his parents, sister and himself. But the only other pictures were newer ones of his sister and her son Cadence.

Not a single picture of himself as a teenager or adult hung in his parent's house. He wondered briefly if that was just happenstance or if it was his mother following orders from dear old Dad.

Looking around the house, Eliot noticed a handful of comic books and a couple of Nerf guns littering the table in the living room. He frowned.

"Hey, Mom-"

The rest of his question was cut short as a bolt of blond energy suddenly rammed into his legs, causing him to take a quick step back.

"Uncle Jack!"

A broad smile instantly crossed Eliot's face and he hugged the small boy who had attached himself to Eliot's leg.

"Hey, Cadence."

"Jackson!" A short, blonde woman approached them, "I didn't realize you were in town."

"Hi, Sydney," Eliot greeted the woman, "It was kind of an impromptu trip."

Sydney Walker smiled and walked up closer to give him a brief hug. "Well, I'm glad you're here. Cade's always talking about you."

The boy in question had already run over to grab his Nerf guns and was holding one out to Eliot.

"Wanna play soldier, Uncle Jack?"

Eliot forced back his impulse to growl a curse that his nephew was playing with guns - even if they were just toys - and instead smiled at the boy.

"Not right now. Let me talk to your mom for a little bit, okay?"

Cade nodded and ran off, an ecstatic grin on his face. Eliot looked back at his sister.

"How old is he now, Syd?"

"About to turn seven next month," Sydney replied.

Eliot whistled under his breath, "He sure grew up fast."

"He adores you, you know." Syd smiled and Eliot could see a tinge of sadness in her eyes. "Even though he hasn't seen you in, what, three and a half years? He loves his Uncle Jack."

Eliot looked away. "I'm sorry, Syd. I just… needed…"

"To go your own way," she finished for him, smiling knowingly, "I get it. You were always different, J."

"Different," he shook his head, his eyes darkening, "Yeah, something like that."

"Sydney, dear!" Annie poked her head in from the kitchen, "Would you come help me with supper?"

"Coming, Mom," Sydney gave Eliot a quick kiss on the cheek, adding quietly, "We'll talk more later."

Eliot watched her disappear into the kitchen and let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Walking toward the back door, he leaned against the doorframe on his good shoulder, eyes taking in the scene in the backyard. Cade was running around like a wild thing, ducking and dodging behind piles of wood and a rusted shell of a riding lawn mower and shooting his Nerf guns at imaginary enemies. Eliot smiled to himself. The kid really did remind him of himself at that age.

A feeling of someone watching him caused him to turn his gaze off to the right. A man sat under the canopy which served as a back porch. A man much older than he should have been. Gray and white hair covered his head, instead of the blond that Eliot remembered. The man sat, slightly hunched over in his chair, with tubes coming from his nose and running down to an oxygen tank which sat next to him on the ground.

Eliot's jaw clenched as the man's head turned toward him and their eyes met. A familiar steely blue glare stared at him for only a brief moment before looking away. With a growl, Eliot pushed himself off the doorframe and slowly approached the man, that earlier feeling of nervous dread creeping back into his stomach.

"Dad," he said the single word quietly.

"What are you doing here?" Daniel Walker replied, not bothering to look at his son. He sucked in a breath through the tubes and Eliot heard him wheeze. "Thought you were off saving the world, rescuing girls? Wait, that was Shelley."

Eliot flinched. His father had always thought Shelley was the son he'd deserved, he'd even said as much to Eliot's face on many occasions when he was younger.

"I was in town, seeing Shell's grave," Eliot said, not responding to the jibe, "Had to make things right with Erin."

Daniel coughed, his intense glare returning to Eliot for a second, "You still into that Jap girl? Didn't you learn enough the first time 'round?"

Eliot's jaw clenched and he narrowed his eyes at his father. "You know, when I was a kid, I thought it was always something I'd done wrong that made you hate me so damned much. I've been thinkin' it over and I realized you're just a cranky old bastard who wasted his life on drinkin' and smokin' until he had a heart attack at thirty-five and now has to have a damn oxygen tank in order to breathe."

"Don't you speak to me that way," Daniel wheezed, sitting up straight in his chair, "I'm your fuckin' father for Christ's sake!"

"Sure had me fooled," Eliot spat. He could feel his anger rising and he fought to push it back. "I just did what you couldn't. I did what I wanted, fought my way to where I needed to be and it burned you because I wasn't your perfect son. You always compared me to Shell, always, I could never do anything right in your eyes. Mom defended me, my actions, and still everything I did was wrong."

"And what have you been doing, oh brave soldier boy?" Daniel demanded, eyes flashing anger and pain, "Runnin' off when you were still a kid, killing people. How many lives have you _saved_, huh? Enough to justify the blood on your hands?"

"I've been protecting _you_!" Eliot yelled, his body seething with rage, decades of pain rushing to the surface, "For seventeen years, I've been keeping my family safe, doing the job that you never could!" He pulled his shirt collar down, exposing the raw scar on his shoulder, "I've got permanent injuries from taking down one of the nastiest gang leaders in the country. Someone who would have destroyed all of you without blinking. I saved your sorry-ass life in more ways than I can count, and this is how you repay me, like you've always done. Degrade, insult, and kick me out."

Eliot could see his father's eyes widen slightly and then the older man looked away, saying nothing in response.

"If this is the kind of fucking reunion I get, maybe there won't be a next time," Eliot continued, "You'll never know what happens in my life, where me and Erin decide to settle down, when we have kids, and when I die protecting the family I love."

Daniel's head snapped to look at Eliot. "You wanna have kids with that girl?" He breathed.

Eliot turned away, wincing as he crossed his arms over his chest. "That's what you choose to respond to? Figures."

"You have no right to be so damn proud of your actions," Daniel remarked snidely.

"Proud?" Eliot turned on his father, "You think I'm _proud_? I ain't proud of any of the shit I've done! You have no idea what I've had to do to keep myself alive, to take out people who are worse than anything you could ever dream up. Pride's got nothing to do with it. Protecting my family, you, Mom, Syd and Cade, even Shell and Erin, that's what I've been doing." He took a deep breath and continued quietly, "Yeah, I got blood on my hands, too much to be washed away. I ain't ever gonna be able to forget the things I've done, but I don't let it take over my life. I keep fighting. That's the thing that bugs you the most. I don't give up on what I care about."

Eliot turned quickly, forcing himself to breathe as evenly as his body would allow, as he walked back to the door. When he looked up, he stopped in his tracks. Sydney and Annie stood in the doorway, Cade hiding behind his mom, his blue eyes wide in fear.

Eliot looked away, unable to say anything to them. They'd probably seen the whole exchange between him and his father.

"Uncle Jack?" Cade spoke up.

Eliot looked up, trying to keep the pain out of his eyes. The boy was standing in front of both women now, a look of concern and some hint of defiance on his young face.

"_I'm_ proud of you," Cade stated, small arms now crossed over his chest in a very familiar way, "I'll always want to see you, Uncle Jack."

Eliot couldn't resist the smile that spread across his face. "Thanks, Cade."

"Supper's ready," Annie stated, loud enough for Eliot's father to hear. Her voice was cold, harsher than Eliot had ever heard. "If you boys are done talking."

Without glancing at his father, Eliot nodded to his mother, smiling down at Cade. "Why don't we go get cleaned up?"

He brushed past Sydney, catching her concerned look as he and Cade entered the house. He went with his nephew to the bathroom, instructing the boy that properly washing up was important before dinner, feeling the presence at the bathroom door before she spoke.

"Jackson, can I talk to you?"

"Go on to the kitchen and see if your grandma needs any help," Eliot smiled at Cade, before straightening and facing his sister, "Look, if you're gonna ask-"

"I'm not," Sydney shook her head, "I don't need to know about anything, Jackson. I heard enough of… you and Dad…"

"I'm sorry you heard any of that," Eliot spoke softly, "I'm sorry I thought that coming back would change anything."

"Jack," Sydney stepped closer to him, gently placing a hand on his arm, "You know that Dad's never going to change and he's never going to understand you."

"I'm not Jackson anymore, Syd," Eliot told her.

"Of course you're not, not the Jackson I remember, at least."

"No," Eliot shook his head. "I stopped using that name a long time ago."

She looked at him, confusion clear on her face. "What?"

"I changed my name, Sydney. I did it to protect you, _all_ of you."

A look of understanding crossed her face then and she nodded. "I don't need to know why. You're a good man, you have your reasons for what you do. You're still my big brother and I'll still stand by you. Even if you're not "Jackson" anymore."

"Eliot," he said quietly.

"What?"

"Eliot Spencer," Eliot looked at her, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a cellphone. "That's who I am now." He pressed the phone into her hand. "My number is on speed dial. So is Erin's. This phone is off the grid, untraceable. If you need me for anything at all, don't hesitate to call."

Sydney stared at him, wide-eyed. She glanced at the phone in her hand. "Why?"

Eliot shook his head. "Can't tell you all the reasons. Just know it's not always safe to contact me, definitely not safe to use "Jackson" outside of this town. Ever."

Sydney nodded slowly. "I, um, I think I understand." She looked up at him, fear in her eyes. "You're not about to do something stupid, are you?"

He smiled, wryly, "It's already too late for that, Syd. I'm giving you a way to keep in contact with me so I don't have to just bump into you every three to five years."

"Well, thanks for this, then," she tucked the phone into her pocket, "Cade's birthday is next month, the twenty-eighth. He'd love for you to be there."

"I'll be there. I promise."

"You aren't staying for supper, then."

He shook his head. "I have an early flight in the morning. I gotta pick up Erin and head out of town."

"You and Erin?" Sydney looked at him, one eyebrow raised.

He shrugged his good shoulder, "I'm not sure, honestly," he smiled, "I guess, she's too damn stubborn to let me go."

Sydney smiled at him. "I knew she was good for you."

He chuckled, shaking his head, "Look, I'm sorry I gotta ditch you, Syd, but you understand."

"Yes, unfortunately, I do," she sighed and gave him a quick hug, "Make sure to tell Cade you'll be at his party before you leave."

"I will."

Sydney stepped aside and Eliot smiled as he passed her. He pulled her into a hug, whispering, "I'll be fine, little sis, don't you worry."

He heard her draw in a quick breath and she nodded. "I know, you always are, but I'll always worry," she smiled at him, "Someone besides Mom has to, you know."

Kissing her forehead, he made his way through the living room and into the kitchen. Pork chops and fresh cornbread filled his senses and he sighed. Damn, did he ever miss his mom's cooking. It hurt more than a little that he wouldn't be able to stay and enjoy it.

"Jackson, dear," Annie smiled when she saw him, "Help Cadence set the table, would you?"

Eliot couldn't help but smile in return at his mother, the rock in the family, the glue that had always kept everyone together. How old, how frail she looked now, worn out from years of dealing with his father's constant arrogant pettiness. The thought made him scowl and he barely held in a growl.

"What's the matter, dear?" Annie stood in front of him, her quiet voice filled with a deep concern, "Is something wrong?"

Shaking off his feelings of anger and annoyance, Eliot forced a smile. "I can't stay, Mom," he offered quietly, "I've got a flight to catch."

The pain in her eyes hurt him more than an argument with his father ever could. He hated to disappoint the people he cared about most, and now he was doing it all over again.

"I-I'm sorry, Mom, I really am."

"No," Annie let out a short sigh and shook her head, "Don't be sorry, Jack, don't you ever be sorry. It's not worth wasting your time over."

He blinked, unsure how to respond to her statement.

"Mom, I, um," he began.

She shook her head, "No, I don't need excuses or explanations, Jackson," she sighed and laid her palm against his cheek for a moment, "You know I've always loved you, even though I rarely see or hear from you. Your father, well, he's always been difficult, Jack, and he's not going to change now," she paused again and turned toward the stove, "I heard more than I needed to this afternoon about your… line of work."

Eliot winced at the amount of sadness in her voice, he'd never wished that on her in a million years. She looked back at him, her eyes brimming with tears.

"Just, stay alive, Jack, please," she begged, "And call or come by or something, more often than you do. I know your father has his issues, but I know deep down he does love seeing you. And of course the rest of us are always happy to hear from you in any way we can."

Nodding, Eliot stepped closer and gave his mother a hug. "I promise, Mom," he stood back, "I'll be here for Cade's birthday."

The smile that radiated from Annie's face made Eliot's heart fill with a warmth he hadn't felt in a long time. He smiled back at her, unable to help himself now.

"Well, you make sure to tell Cade before you leave, then, and we'll see you next month," she kissed his cheek and winked, "I'm looking forward to seeing Erin again, too."

He rolled his eyes, he'd never understand how his mother managed to pick up on literally everything, "Thanks, Mom."

"Uncle Jack!"

Eliot smiled down at the boy who was tugging on his shirt.

"Mama says you're leaving," Cade's bottom lip was twitching and he looked absolutely devastated.

Eliot knelt down to the boy's level, "Cade, I'm going on a little trip I've been planning for a while. But, I'll be back for your birthday, though, I promise."

Cade's pouty frown immediately turned into a wide grin and he hugged Eliot, hard. Eliot grunted, pushing away the burst of pain he felt. He smiled at his nephew and ruffled the boy's hair.

"I'll see you soon, kiddo, okay?"

"'Kay!" Cade grinned, elated.

Eliot straightened, slowly, feeling his injured leg twinge slightly as he did so. He shouldn't have been moving so much so soon. Flashing a quick smile to his mother, who beamed back at him, he turned to leave. As he stepped out onto the front porch, he saw his sister.

"You still have your truck, I see," she commented quietly.

"Is that a good or a bad thing?" he asked.

She smiled and looked at him, "I'm just glad to know that you're not entirely different from what I remember, J."

He smiled back and kissed the top of her head. "Thanks, I guess. I'll see you next month, Syd."

He walked to his truck, turning as he opened the driver's side door, "Remember, if you need anything-"

"Call you," she nodded and waved, "Drive safe and have fun with Erin."

Rolling his eyes again, he shook his head, a happy, maybe even contented, grin still on his face. It hadn't been quite as bad as he'd thought, but that could have been because the last time he'd spoken with his father at any great length Eliot was barely eighteen and was a sight more impressionable and weak. Weak? No, that wasn't right. Naive was better, obedient, even. Hell, he'd been stubborn as all get out for as long as he'd been alive, but now he had almost two decades of tough skin from the real world and real danger to take his father's verbal jabs. It was his life experiences that had made this interaction with his father seem half as bad as he remembered.

Shaking away thoughts of the past, he turned up his radio and his smile only broadened. The country song coming through his speakers made him think of Erin. Erin made him think of the trip they were about to leave on and that, in turn, made him grin. For once in a very long time, and despite all the shit from the past several weeks, Eliot Spencer was happy and relaxed. Well, a little bit, anyway.

.~~~~~~~.

Erin was waiting for him on the front porch of her mom's house when he drove up and he felt a smile on his face instantly. In fact, he was pretty sure his smile had been glued on since he'd left his parents' house. He remembered how giddy with excitement Erin had always gotten over the littlest of things and it made him happy to see her smile.

"You all set?" he asked, walking up to the house.

She nodded, her face scrunched up all cute like it did whenever she was thinking really hard. "It didn't go well, did it?" she asked quietly.

He frowned and looked away, "Shouldn't have expected anything different."

She was next to him then, her arms around his waist and her head on his chest. "It's okay, El."

His heart stopped briefly and he forced his brain to put together some kind of response.

"Where'd you hear that, Erin?" he croaked, clearing his throat.

"What?" she looked up at him, obviously confused.

"Th-That nickname," he stammered in a whisper, unable to hold his emotions back this time.

"I thought I just made it up," she replied frowning thoughtfully, "Obviously it's been used before. I won't use it again, I just liked the sound of it."

Eliot let out a breath, whispering, "It was Shelley's nickname for me when we were, uh, in the service."

He heard her gasp and she buried her face in his chest. "You don't mind if I call you that?"

"Anyone else, hell yes I mind, but coming from you definitely not."

Her body began to shake slightly, her voice coming out as a strangled sob, "I miss him, Eliot."

"I do, too," Eliot murmured, fighting back the tears that threatened to fill his own eyes as he held her tight. He always would miss his best friend, no matter how much time passed. He knew that.

They stood in each other's arms for several minutes, the late afternoon sunlight casting long shadows on the porch behind them. Finally, Erin pulled her head away from his chest and looked up at him, her bottom lip stuck out in a very familiar pout.

"Do we _have_ to leave so early in the morning?"

He smiled, "You know you're adorable when you do that."

She stuck her tongue out at him and he kissed her, ignoring her muffled protest. Pulling her closer, he deepened the kiss, reaching a hand to the back of her neck. She sighed against his lips, and he felt her pressing herself even harder against him, somehow closer than she already was. Damn it, now really was _not_ a good time for this.

Pulling away only slightly, he caught his breath, eyes searching her flushed face. She had a dazed, but happy, shine in her eyes and he smiled. He realized then that there never really was a perfect time for anything.

"El," her voice was whisper, eyes filled with a very distinctive fire, a need he hadn't seen in a long time, "Do you, um, want to go upstairs?"

His eyebrows rose. He'd never in his life heard her ask so politely for anything, especially not sex… with _him_. This was seriously adding up to be one of the most interesting days in his life.

"Your _mom_ is home, Erin," he whispered.

"I promise I'll be quiet if you are," her smirk was back, a devilish look in her emerald eyes.

His own eyes widened. She was seriously wanting this _that_ badly right now?

"Well, if you insist," he grinned, "Lead the way, darlin'."

She did just that, pulling him up the stairs at a speed which he could barely follow, hardly allowing him to be as quiet as he'd liked. He felt like a teenager, sneaking around doing naughty things without Erin's mom even knowing. The thought made him snicker quietly. Geez, he really _was_ a teenager again. All too quickly, they were in her room, door shut and locked and Erin was pushing him backward onto her bed. He grunted in pain as she tugged at his shirt, even though he knew she was being gentle. He carefully pulled off his shirt, which was closely followed by his pants, then hers and oh, _God_….

Somewhere along the way the logical and cautious parts of his brain checked out and he gave in to the pure happiness and passion that was coursing through both of them. Erin always did talk him into doing what she wanted and, at this precise moment, he loved her all the more for it. They needed this, needed each other, now more than ever it seemed.

He wasn't sure how long they went, but by the end of it, both of them were covered in sweat and she was grinning, eyes bright as she curled up next to him. He gasped for breath - and _he'd_ hardly done anything - his chest burning even as he smiled at her. Her naked body next to his felt right. Even though _his_ entire body was on fire, screaming at him for what he'd just done, but he didn't care. It - she - was so completely worth it. She didn't have to know the immense pain he was in. She never would if he had anything to say about it. Her sleepy, contented smirk was worth all the pain in the world.

Tomorrow, they would be alone, on a much needed vacation. At least too whole weeks of nothing but _this_.

Tomorrow, everything would be even better.

* * *

Author's Note: Yes, sadly, this story is now complete. *cries* But, don't freak out, there are four more coming. Yes, four. A HUGE thank you to all the readers, followers, reviewers out there. I love you all and I really do write for all of you. Thanks for bearing through my grammatical mistakes and several plot holes and issues. :D


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